#and he's the kind of 32 year old that i am

[save-mohamed-family]

My campaign is verified and added to the Gaza Donations page with number 192.

Thank you for documenting my campaign from the following accounts:

@sar-soor @heba-20 @el-shab-hussein @90-ghost @soon-palestine@ibtisams @marnota @riding-with-the-wild-hunt @i-am-aprl @northgazaupdates @fallahifag @fairuzfan

I love you all 🙏🙏♥️🌹

I am Mohammed Almanasra, 32 years old, married, and a father of three children: Abdulrahman, 6 years old, Sarah, 4 years old, and Lina, 3 years old.

My story began with the loss of my parents and four of my sisters, who were bombed and lost their lives along with their children after the events of October 7 and the severe war on Gaza. Now, I am facing a severe injury to my leg, which is at risk of amputation if I do not receive the necessary treatment. My wife, children, and I are displaced, without parents or siblings, and my wife is also suffering from uterine cancer.

Recently, I moved to the south of the Gaza Strip, fearing for the lives of my children. We left behind our memories and our new home, for which we had not finished paying the installments, in addition to losing my job. Currently, I live in a tent that does not protect me from the heat of summer or the cold of winter, and without the minimum necessary livinng basics including water, food medical care, clothe and even bedding .

I suffer from a chronic asthma and severe attacks from tightness and an extreme allergy in the ear and I need medicine that are not available, or very expensive .

Under these difficult circumstances, after five attempts at displacement and narrowly escaping death from the bombing, I am trying with all my might to protect my family, the most precious thing I have.

My dreams were shattered, and my house was destroyed, and I found myself living in a tent no larger than 4 square metres. My work turned from a tailor to a street vendor in order to barely buy a few crumbs of bread to feed my children.

Look at what happened to my children because of the intense heat and the insects that thrive in the summer season. Every day, I take them to the hospital to treat them due to poisonous insect bites. I implore every kind-hearted soul to help me protect my children.

My son, Abdul Rahman, has a deep passion for playing football and is a devoted fan of Real Madrid. He always dreamed of playing football at his school, but the war prevented this dream from coming true.

Where are you, Real Madrid fans ?

Help Abdul Rahman achieve his dream.

Every donation will make an enormous difference in helping me save my family.

I feel very sad and embarrassed to ask for help, but I have no other options left. I know that this request is difficult, but I also know that there is still humanity and living consciences and I believe in miracles.

Your support during this extremely difficult time will give us hope in the midst of devastation and despair.

If you have any inquiries or questions, feel free to ask me, please!

To everyone with a compassionate heart,

To all who understand the essence of humanity,

This is a message from my innocent children, who trust that their words will reach everyone who truly understands the meaning of childhood.

We cry out to you, asking you to feel our sorrow and pain, and to extend a helping hand to us in this time when we are in desperate need of your mercy and compassion.

My name is being repeatedly added to many public and private donation campaigns. Please, be a support for me in this difficult situation.

https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets/u/0/d/1yYkNp5U3ANwILl2MknJi9G7ArY4uVTEEQ1CVfzR8Ioo/htmlview

Sincere greetings & thanks

Mohammed & the family

[artificial-transmutations]

The Last Chance!

My head was throbbing, and lights danced in front of me. Distorted music was blaring and for a moment, I felt like throwing up. When my sight cleared a bit, I could see a slim metal lectern in front of me and grabbed it to stabilize myself. Breathe in, breathe out. Slowly, the nausea subsided enough to look around. I was not alone, far from it. I was bathed in bright lights from above and from the sides, and I had to squint to be able to discern my surroundings. There were three more lecterns, arranged in a half circle, and behind that, three more people who didn't look any better than I felt.

In the middle of the circle, there was a big leather chair that was currently empty. Still, most of the lights - artificial lights, headlights - were directed at the empty chair. To all sides, behind the big island of brightness, I could see grandstands with people in the dark, producing a constant loud chattering noise. The room was huge, but had, apparently, no windows.

Even though I've never been in one, it looked a lot like a TV studio to me. The setup looked like a game show of sorts, which means the empty chair was for the host, and I was at one of the contestant's spots.

Which brought me back to the most pressing question: How the hell did I get here?

Let's see, what do I remember... I am Evan, kindergarten teacher, 32 years old, and...

Right. I wasn't very well right now. My boyfriend broke up with me, it was pretty ugly, and then, I went to a bar. I was pretty drunk, but I think I remember leaving the bar again, in the middle of the night and then...

No, total blackout. Nothing that could explain how I got into a TV studio.

I looked at the other contestants, who seemed to be in various states of confusion as well. At the front of the lecterns, I could read their names:

Right next to me, there was Victoria. She looked like a librarian, or a secretary of some sorts. Pretty unremarkable. She seemed perhaps the least uncomfortable and eyed the rest of us with sharp intelligent eyes, nodding slightly as she caught my gaze.

Then, there was Lucas. He looked like he worked as a security guard, or maybe a bouncer, but not one for an exclusive club. His face was broad and his jaw strong and adorned with a goatee, and he wore a tight t-shirt and loose cargo pants. His posture was intimidating, but his eyes were friendly, if perhaps a bit simple.

At the far end, behind the lectern was Blake. He looked a bit like a teacher or a scientist, to be honest. He was slim and tall, had a brown pony tail and wore pretty unfashionable clothes.

For the sake of completion, my own name read "Evan", as expected. I was a pretty normal guy, wearing jeans and t-shirt. I was quite average looking, neither very good nor very bad, and had a bit of a tummy. In short, a very typical guy.

When I looked up again, there was suddenly a man sitting in the chair, wearing a fancy suit, looking into the cameras with a wide smile. I was sure I had not seen him entering, which seemed strange.

Immediately, the chattering from the audience ceased, and the man, who must have been the host, began to speak. So much for trying to escape the situation before the show started.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, and all creatures! Welcome to this wonderful, bombastic, extraordinary episode of 'The last chance'! I'm your host, the magnificent Mr. Mephistolon."

There was a moment of applause and cheering from the dark grandstands, before the man continued. What an odd introduction! Being inclusive is good and all, but 'all creatures'?

"And today, we have our best contestants ever. Give me a cheer for Blake, Lucas, Victoria and Evan!"

Again, there was some applause, which was nice, but I was still confused. What kind of game show was this?

"The rules are simple! Here at 'The last chance', everything is possible. In three exciting elimination rounds, our contestants will fight for the grand mystery prize. You, the audience will vote after each round who you like the least, and the one with the most votes has to leave, never to be seen again."

I decided I didn't like the humor of the host very much, but the explanation continued.

"Whoever survives the third round is the winner of tonight's show! They will receive the grand mystery prize"

He held up a sealed red envelope.

"And, of course, gets to go home."

It would probably have been funnier if I remembered how I got here. The charming host made it sound like we were kidnapped, but that was hardly possible, not on live TV. So, it was probably just a joke.

"But! How can you sway the audience to not vote you out, you ask? What is the game, you want to know? It's easy! In each round, each and every one of you gets a spin on our wheel of fortune. In addition, you will be dealt three cards. In every round, you must use whatever the wheel shows and one of your cards to *change* yourself and one other contestant of your choice. It doesn't matter who you choose for what, as long as one change applies to yourself and one to another one. And remember: All changes are always permanent!"

The host chuckled as if his last statement was especially funny. I didn't quite understand what 'changes' he meant, but the rest was pretty clear.

As soon as the host finished explaining, a gorgeous woman with a long flowing dress and a big deck of cards approached us. Her eyes sparkled, and her skin was smooth, and the long dress made it look like she had a tail under it. She gave every one of us contestants three cards. Mine read "Masculine", with a big blue mars symbol on it, "Submissive", depicting a figure looking down at their feet, and "Chubby", a pink pudgy figure.

After we had a moment to look at our cards, the host spoke up again.

"And without further ado, let's get started! This round begins with..."

The drum rolls in the background sounded very stereotypical.

"Victoria! Ladies first!"

With a fanfare, a big wheel of fortune was unveiled, and set into motion with one swift motion from Mr. Mephistolon. I couldn't make out what the labels on the wheel said until it slowed down and landed on the symbol of a large eggplant. It read "hung".

It had to be one of these late-night game shows with a sexual edge to it. I didn't feel very comfortable.

"Alright, Victoria! The wheel shows 'hung'. You need to choose one of your cards, and then apply both changes, one to you, and one to another contestant!"

The woman studied her cards carefully before choosing one. She held it up and smiled.

"Okay. I pick this card here for myself. It says: 'Big-Chested'. And I'll apply 'hung' to..."

She looked around her three male contestants before finally settling on me. "Evan!"

"Alright, a good choice, Victoria! Remember, the changes will apply after everyone has chosen. Let's continue with Lucas!"

The wheel spun and landed on the picture of a pink, hairless arm, which said "Smooth".

Lucas had looked into his cards up until here and scratched his head.

"Okay, so we're supposed to be nice to each other, right? Okay, so, I... Can I give both to the other guys?"

"I'm sorry Lucas, but the rules are that you have to change yourself as well!" The host smiled with endless professional patience.

"Oh, okay." The guy really wasn't all too bright.

"Then... I take 'smooth' for myself and give Victoria my 'Slim'. That works, right?"

"Yes, Lucas, that's possible! Great job!" The host cheered before looking at Blake and spinning the wheel. It finally settled on "Nerdy", adorned with a pair of glasses.

Blake's eyes darted between his cards and the rest of us. Finally, he decided.

"Okay, I don't think we're supposed to be nice to each other, here. At least, I only have rather negative cards. Since I have to play one on myself, I choose 'Dominant'". He held up a card showing a figure with held up high head and a broad stance.

"And the 'nerdy' from the wheel goes to... Lucas."

The audience murmured and the host nodded approvingly.

"It seems like you have understood pretty quickly! Alright! Let's get to our last one for this round. Evan!"

He set the wheel in motion, and I watched until it stopped at the picture of a broad chest, reading 'muscular'. I looked down on my cards. So, even if I didn't understand the whole 'change' part, it was obvious I should give positive things to myself and negative things to other people. The wheel showed 'muscular', which was obviously positive, and 'masculine' in my hand was positive as well. So, I needed to choose between 'submissive' and 'chubby'. The thought of the big bouncer having the 'submissive' card was pretty hilarious, so I decided on that.

"I'll take 'muscular' for myself and give my 'submissive' to Lucas." I announce.

"Great choices, all around. Alright. So, we get to the changes! Victoria, you got 'Big-Chested' from yourself, and 'slim' from Lucas. Let's see how you look like!"

Whatever I expected, it was not that. Before my very eyes, Victoria's modest breasts swelled until her blouse was bursting. Her body lost any excess fat, and her hips became narrower as well, forming a perfect hourglass shape. If I had been straight, I would have surely started to drool.

"Very nice! Now, let's see the guys. Lucas! You have your own 'smooth', and Blake's 'nerdy' as well as Evan's 'submissive'. Quite a lot, if you ask me!"

As expected, Lucas lost all body hair, except his head and face. Then, his eyebrows thinned out and his nose grew a bit more pronounced. I thought I heard the word 'sissy' being called from the audience. A thick pair of glasses snapped into existence, and his clothing shifted to an awkward, nerdy look. And something seemed to happen behind his eyes. Where before, he looked the host in the eye, he suddenly looked at his shoes.

"I'm sorry, master." He muttered.

"What was that, Lucas?" The host asked, smiling.

"I'm sorry, Master. I don't deserve to look into your eyes." Laughter from the audience.

Lucas was still pretty broad, but his new posture and clothing veiled that pretty well. He looked pathetic all in all.

"Alright, Lucas. Let's switch to Blake. Here, we have your own 'Dominant' and... That’s it! Your antagonists decided to go easy on you, as it seems."

The shift in Blake's demeanor was subtle. His body stayed the same, but his posture changed, as he spread his legs a bit wider and raised his shoulders. His facial expression shifted, and I was sure to see traces of cruelty or arrogance in it, now.

"Aaand, finally. Evan. 'Muscular' from yourself and 'hung' from Victoria. Seems like the other contestants like you, Evan!"

Victoria, the new, busty, Victoria leaned over and smiled as she whispered: "You're welcome."

Suddenly, my body felt tingly and weird all over. I watched in a mix of amazement and horror, as my muscles grew all over the place, quickly filling out my clothes that shifted subtly to make way for the new bulges.

The crowd cheered, and I looked at them for a moment. Then, I was distracted by a feeling in my groin. It took all my self-control not to check with my hands, but I could clearly see the bulge of my cock grow in my pants. I wasn't getting hard - although the feeling was pretty erotic - but my dick was just quickly gaining size, until the bulge was clearly visible through my pants now. I could even see the soft rod hanging down one leg and make out the shape of my balls. With my head red, I stepped closer to the lectern.

"That's all changes for round 1!" The host announced. "And it's time to say goodbye to one of our contestants now. Please, cast your vote."

While the audience voted, I looked around. Busty Victoria was probably pretty safe, as was I - I didn't have a mirror, but I must have looked pretty good. If the audience voted by looks - which I suspected - then it would either hit Blake or Lucas. Since Blake had changed the least, he was probably the most boring one, so I suspected he would be voted out.

It was Lucas, by a small margin.

"Well, then, Lucas! Here goes your 'Last Chance'!" The host smiled, a smile I would describe as cruel, and all of a sudden, a flame shot up where Lucas had been standing just a few moments ago. When the flame was gone, so was Lucas. Wow. That was either a pretty cool special effect or... No, it was a special effect.

As the host turned to Victoria again, I got the feeling this game show was more serious than I thought.

The wheel stopped at the word 'needy'. Victoria looked into her cards and whispered to me: "Let's work together this round."

Since the spot next to her was empty, I was the only one she could whisper to, even though I must have been the bigger threat in her eyes. Her plan was to concentrate on Blake this round and then eliminate me in the next.

"I give 'Needy' to Blake, and I'll take..." She flashed a smile to the audience. "'Big Behind'" The card showed the rather unsubtle outline of a large ass. Victoria was *dangerous*. She had adapted lightning fast and knew how to manipulate the audience.

Blake looked at her with contempt, possibly due to his new dominant demeanor, until the wheel stopped in front of him. It showed a naked male chest, heavily adorned with tattoos.

"Oookay. I take 'Tattooed' from the wheel for myself, and I play this card on Evan."

My heart sunk as he produced a card showing a naked figure that read 'Exhibitionistic'. Crap. The smile in Blake's face was cold. He, too, was dangerous. And from his announcement in the first round, I knew he had more negative cards in his hand.

"So, Evan, take your pick."

I hadn't even realized that the wheel had already stopped, and I looked at it quickly. It showed a pelt of hair on a breast and read 'hairy'. I quickly looked down on my cards. I had 'masculine' and 'chubby'. It was probably a good idea to keep chubby for the last round, so I had to play 'masculine'. The apparent solution was to play it on myself and give 'hairy' to Blake, if I wanted to do what Victoria suggested. However, hairy probably wouldn't hurt Blake much, and neither would 'masculine'. I could sacrifice my 'chubby', but then I'd probably lose the next round for sure. I pondered. No, Victoria was more dangerous. I could play 'hairy' on her... But wait! She was slim and busty, and she was about to give herself a big ass. Combined with hairy, that would be strange, but what if I took out her feminine advantage?

"I take 'hairy' for myself." I began. It didn't make much difference if I was hairy or not. "And I play 'masculine' on Victoria."

The audience went crazy as Victoria's transformation began. Her ass ballooned out, making her even more beautiful by heterosexual standards for a second. But that changed when her body shifted and crossed the gender boundary quickly. A bulge formed both in her throat and in her groin, and her clothes shifted to a masculine style. However, just as I had planned, she still had the other traits. Her - no, his - chest formed decidedly male but rather big man-tits, and his ass was fat. The rest of him, however, including the arms and legs, were thin and slim, looking decidedly grotesque on his male frame.

"I guess we should call you 'Victor' now" smiled the host before the attention shifted towards Blake.

"Let's see how Blake looks after his new changes: 'Tattooed' and 'Needy'".

Blake's skin quickly filled with ink, giving the man an even more dangerous aura. For a moment, I was afraid that Blake would get a stronger position due to his changes, but then, a loud moan came out of his mouth.

"Please! I need someone to..." he was confused as hell, I could see that, as his dominant and his needy side came to a weird compromise.

"... to order to fuck my hole. Please!"

The audience erupted in laughter, and even the host had to smile. It was pitiful.

"And now for Evan."

Crap, what were my changes again? I had completely forgotten that I was being changed as well.

"Let's give you... 'hairy' and 'exhibitionistic'!"

Fuck, and it was all negative. I looked down on my muscular body and I could see body hair growing in, all over my exposed arms and legs, even some in my face. However, the worst was yet to come.

My mind was filled with an overwhelming need. I *had* to show off my body. I *had* to put it on display for everyone to see. Accompanied by the laughter of the audience, I pulled off my shirt and exposed my furry, muscular chest for everyone to see. It felt good, but I wasn't finished. Next, the shoes, socks and pants came off. My underwear was filled to the brim with my large cock, and a thick bush of hair erupted from it as well. And my underwear got even tighter as I felt the rush of satisfaction it gave me to expose myself like that. I could stop now, I probably had enough self-control. However, I hesitated. It was all about the audience vote, right? Perhaps I had better chances if I played the role, to the end. So, I hooked both my thumbs into my strained boxer shorts and, with a quick motion, pulled them off, freeing the absolute python of my semi-hard cock. I even took a few steps back from my lectern, so everyone could see me in all of my hairy, muscular glory.

The audience went wild. With some satisfaction, I noticed that almost no one voted me out. Instead, most of the votes fell on Blake.

"So long, Blake!" said the host, and Blake, too, disappeared in a sudden flame.

"Seems like it's just Victor and Evan left. Let's see who survives this round and takes the grand mystery prize home! Let me spin the wheel for Victor!"

The wheel slowed down on the sweaty face emoticon. However, it didn't read 'sweaty', but instead 'horny'. Victor smiled and shot me an apologetic look.

"Sorry, big guy, but that's it for you. Let's see how needy you get. I choose 'horny' for Evan and for me... 'Charming'". The new man produced his last card, which showed a handsome prince. Crap. That was a good combination.

I looked down at my 'chubby' card, and only as the wheel stopped, I realized my mistake. I had kept the strongest negative card until the end, but I didn't anticipate that the wheel might *also* show something negative. I stared at the head-scratching figure on the wheel and the word below that. 'Dumb'. Shit.

What were my options? I could give myself chubby and Victor dumb. Perhaps, hopefully, chubby wouldn't look too bad on my muscled body, but it hardly mattered if Victor was dumb or not. Charme worked regardless of intelligence.

Then again, I could give Victor 'chubby', which would probably work well in making him even less attractive and grotesque. But that would mean I'd have to take 'dumb'. And all changes were permanent, the host had said so.

I thought back to the flame effect that had consumed Blake and Lucas. No, I had to win this, no matter the cost.

I forced a smile for the audience. "Perfect!" I exclaimed. "I'm big all over already, and hairy and naked. So, I'll gladly take the 'dumb' - make me a real himbo!"

I didn't want to be 'a real himbo', for sure, but it might still be better than the alternative. And it would fit into the 'horny' I was about to get.

"And Victor gets my last card: 'Chubby'!"

His eyes went wide, as he suddenly wasn't so sure of his victory anymore. And really, he immediately began to change. His thin body got softer and rounder, especially his stomach and butt. Even his man-tits grew even larger. However, at the same time, his face grew a well-groomed beard, and his eyes got a sparkle to it. Even though his form was bloated, he still looked nice enough. Fuck.

Then, all eyes went to me. I closed my eyes as Mr. Mephistolon announced my changes. 'Dumb' and 'Horny'. No bodily changes, thankfully. My body was still glorious and on full display. The first effect I felt was in my groin again. I grew hot and flustered, and my previously semi-hard cock quickly expanded into its full length, hard and throbbing, pointing directly ahead. That wasn't bad, I had to admit. As I was leaking precum on the floor, I enjoyed the attention of my body on display like that, and there was certainly a lot to see. But the next change hit my mind. My thoughts felt sluggish and slow. It was as if the gears in my head were covered in syrup or mud. Or that other thing, what was it... Cum, right. I had to grin dumbly. Yeah, my thoughts were slow as if they went through cum. That thought amused me and distracted me for longer than I would have been comfortable to admit before. But now, I just didn't care. When I opened my eyes again, all higher intellect was gone, and I was just happy for all the attention and was feeling horny. Well, I was always feeling horny, right? Automatically, my large right hand gripped my fuckstick and I started to slowly stroke it, while smearing precum into the pelt on my chest with the left one. The audience cheered.

"Alright, here are the final votes!", the host announced, ripping my attention momentarily from my own body.

"It seems like, with a *very* narrow margin, Victor has lost this round."

I looked at him quizzically. Was that good?

"That means Evan wins tonight's show!"

The audience went wild and clapped, and I felt happy. Apparently, I had done something right!

"Congratulations, Evan! Now, let's see what tonight's grand mystery prize is."

With a big gesture, the host opened the envelope and read out the contents.

"The winner - that's you, Evan - gets to transform the host freely, to his liking. Now that's something we haven't seen in this show for a long time!"

Even though that meant I was allowed to change him to my whim, Mr. Mephistolon didn't seem unhappy. Instead, he licked his lips.

"Go on then, Evan! What do you want to change about me?"

"Uhhh..."

I thought hard about it.

"Make you... Make you big. Big and... strong. But not as strong as me. More like lean, but sturdy. I still want to be the one to fuck you. And... uh, make you... Make you have big dick and big balls."

I was a bit confused about the last two points. My mind had trouble thinking, but I also had a big dick and big balls, and those were good, right? So, I wanted them for him, too.

"Alright, let's see what Evan gets."

I watched curiously as Mr. Mephistolon slowly began to change.

He gained muscles, but nothing like I had. He stayed rather thin, but his arms, chest and abs looked very nice. His feet grew, and lean muscle set in, making him able to withstand a lot of force when I would pound his hole, later. I could hardly wait and was stroking my cock again.

As expected, his cock and balls swelled, and grew hairy. He was not as hung as me, but that was probably good. After all, he wouldn't really need his cock, his ass was the important part.

After his transformation was finished, I saw him look at his new body and his cock, and then into the crowd, before his eyes landed on me.

"Well then, that's all for tonight, folks! I guess I'm going home with Evan now!"

And with the last round of applause, our surroundings shifted until I was in my apartment again. Still the same bull of a man, with my target right in front of me. I licked my lips as I approached the host. I would fuck him silly, that's for sure.

[fairycrackhead]

𝒃𝒂𝒅 𝒓𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒆 | toxic fuck boy Gojo x toxic reader

pairing: toxic fuck boy.ᐟGojo x toxic.ᐟreader

summary: Halloween night is now engraved in your memory which you can only assume it will be for the rest of your lives. When you two should have been trick or treating as normal 14 year olds would do, you instead opt to take each others virginity’s. Now you two are stuck in an endless cycle of toxic bad romance.

warnings: mention of abuse, drunk people, porn, minors watching porn, minors having sexual Intercourse, slight degradation, having unprotected sex, mentions of pregnancy, hair pulling, mentions of murder, toxic relationship.

word count: 3.5k

a/n: this was a random idea i thought up of when i heard the song ‘bad romance’ by lady gaga on the bus the other day! anyways this is my first fic i hope you sluts enjoy :)

⎜ 11:32 pm My Bitch (y/n) : your seriously a dick yk that?

⎜ 11:37 pm My bitch (y/n): i fuckin despise u

⎜ 11:45 pm Mr. Cock (Gojo): and your telling me again, y?

⎜ 11:47 pm My bitch (y/n): bc your w/ another girl like it’s clockwork, do you not see the problem here, Gojo? i asked you to stop the bullshit.

⎜ 11:49 pm Mr. Cock (Gojo): ur not my gf. im in for pussy that’s it. yk im not a relationship guy

⎜ 11:52 pm Mr. Cock (Gojo): and yet you continue to come back to me. pathetic honestly

⎜ 11:56 pm My bitch (y/n): fuck you

⎜ 12:00 am Mr. Cock (Gojo): already needy? 😂

You should’ve known what kind of man Satoru Gojo was when you lost your virginity to him on Halloween night, 2011. It’s not like it was forced upon you, besides the occasional talk in the middle school hallway that ‘girls who were virgins were prudes’ or ‘how pathetic is it that there’s still virgins in the 8th grade’. Looking back at it now, it sounds really stupid…like really fucking stupid. All those supposed ‘women’ they would call themselves, ‘women’ who just now learned how to correctly put a tampon into the pussy that they just mercilessly shaved, (more like butchered), were all still scrawny, pathetic little girls inside. Of course hearing all the chatter about everyone’s virginity losses, the stories that were so horrific it made you wanna vomit and change schools, made you insecure on the inside. It’s not like you hadn’t thought of sex before, it just wasn’t your current desire to have some undeveloped boy’s dick in one of those…holes down there. Which also brought up another concern for you: how to even do the act. You assumed that the other person would lead (which was a bad guess because Gojo was a fumbling inexperienced idiot as well).

And it was almost nothing like the old pornos your dad had playing on repeat on the old box tv. He’d spend all his off days (which were more than days he actually got his ass up and went to work), drinking, belching, an occasional scratch of his ass, and watching naked women dance around on the grainy tv. You guys never got the money to buy a new one, maybe if he went to his job down the street at the local corner store he could afford more than the crappy ten dollar pizza down the block.

But who knows, you’ve seen those disgusting scenes, at an age way too young to even comprehend, so did you really have any knowledge? You were a curious kid, not a dumb one, you could easily depict whether or not the porn on the screen was realistic or not. Most the time it was the latter. The overdramatized moans and screams made you wince, on more than a few occasions, but it’s not like the paper thin walls separating the living room and yours did much to help. From having no mother figure to really correct your behavior, and a father that couldn’t give a fuck less, it started your one of many issues. Discovering sex at a really young age, not the act itself but any form of porn an eight year old could get their sticky, grubby hands on. The noises from the tv haunted your mind in a chilling way, making you want to stay as far away from it as possible, yet were still so fucking intrigued.

Until it was the start of the 9th grade, and surprisingly the comments the ‘women’ made in the locker rooms were still present in your mind, not surrounding your every thought, but still there deep down in the back of your mind. ‘Girls who are virgins are lame prudes’. If only you knew that those girls were bluffing about the whole virginity loss thing, but it seemed convincing enough at the time. The way they described how their ‘mans’ bent them over countless times over their granite countertops, or on the elementary school playground. It sounds absurd now, but they had big boobs, and horny teenage boys liked big boobs, so it must of been true, right?

And now here you are, at an headache inducing party, or rave, whatever you wanna call it, watching Gojo talk to yet another girl, more like plain on flirting. She seemed like one of those girls that wouldn’t know if a forty pound dumbbell hit her right in the forehead, so just Gojo’s usual fuck of the night. All he did was stare at her boobs which were spilling out the corset of her trashy costume, and make very poor conversation. What a man whore. You could see Gojo’s shit eating smirk on his lips even from far away and in the almost completely pitch black room, only flashing lights that could cause seizures giving you any sort of seeing ability.

His eyes move from her lips to her tits. Lips—tits—lips—tits. You just wanted to knock the red solo cup out of his overly large fingers and put them somewhere useful. (Such as your aching cunt just dripping in anticipation.) You wanted to go to the nearest open bedroom, drag him by is weirdly hot silver chain, and let him have at you. But you hold back your desires, trying not to let into another spiral of emotions with this man, the same cycle that’s been happening forever now.

You practically crush your phone with your bare hand after receiving that last text, but you refrain and shove it back into your bra since your day to day purse didn’t match your outfit. You take a long deep breath, one you often had to take due to Gojo’s infuriating cocky persona. Walking over to the kitchen, a mini bar was set up in this random kids house, which wasn’t even his you assumed by the family pictures propped up on basically every flat surface.

You hated the parties your friends dragged you to, you felt too old to be in the scene of just barely legal adults blacking out and throwing up so much to the point of you having to look around before walking to avoid stepping in someone’s chunky puke. But to your surprise you actually enjoyed the noise, not making it, but watching others create it. It gave you some sort of distraction from your thoughts which seemed to consume and take over your life since the 9th grade. You wouldn’t call it trauma necessarily, it’s not like you knew you had a fucked up home life until you were fresh out of high school. People on the outside saw your drunken father, crappy rundown home, and the rotational three outfits you wore each week to school and saw it has straight abuse. On some level, the lack of care you were given could be seen as abuse by default, but you were a happy kid. Sure, you were exposed to porn by the time you were eight, but it was just normal to you…in some kinda depressing fashion.

Gojo came from a completely different background, whenever you stepped into his gated community it felt like you were in some other world, an insanely futuristic environment. He was rich, but he wasn’t cocky like those spoiled brats you see on those UK television shows like Super Nanny. At least not when you two had met. It wasn’t a close friendship necessarily, but you two enjoyed each other’s company’s to the point of having sex with each other, so maybe you were closer than you originally thought.

⎜12:08 am Mr. Cock (Gojo): don’t forget you made me like this. don’t get pissy abt what u created.

You dig your phone back out of your lace bra and scoff when you see the message, your hand threatening to go find this piece of shit and chuck your phone at his big head instead. You don’t answer, stuffing your phone back where it came from. You gently push other drunks out your way, reaching for a beer from the ice chest. Using your mouth (one Gojo would call very useful and efficacious), popping it open with your canines.

One thing you loathed about Gojo (not to mention the other 52 things written in your notes) was he thought you were the reason for his ‘fuck boy’ qualities. Yes, you both took each other’s virginity’s, it’s not like he didn’t want it, in fact he wanted it more than you, judging the throbbing of his cock when he first showed it to you. It always comes flooding into your mind every night, more so each Halloween. You came to resent the holiday since it only reminded you of that night 13 years ago. Despite it being over a decade ago, you still recall the nervousness and excitement that you felt when he finally came inside you. It makes you laugh when you remember how totally freaked you were, how you thought you’d get pregnant with his baby.

At that moment you repeated over and over again how ‘this was a terrible idea’ and ‘i hate that you let us do this’. It was an all around shit show for a good twenty minutes before Gojo finally snapped and yelled at you to get over it. Besides it not being the most calm way to handle your panic, it worked. Who could blame him, he was scared shitless too. You both ended the night by trick or treating, it was a kinda dud of a night considering typical trick or treating hours ended two hours ago during your private fun. Luckily Gojo spotted a house on your near midnight walk, a load of halloween candy left in a bowl on some old lady’s porch.

“We shouldn’t-“ but of course, he didn’t let you finish, pressing a shy brief kiss on your lips instead. He had a subtle blush on his pale cheeks, a blush you would only see now during your angry make up sex sessions. Grabbing your hand, and practically dragging you to the house. “Just grab the fuckin’ candy, ya scaredy cat.” He laughs, looking around the dark streets before snagging the candy bowl with a big orange pumpkin face plastered on the front, running off.

“Gojo! YOU FUCKIN’ THEIF!” you giggle, suddenly the porch lights flicker on like some horror movie, and your heart drops into your ass. The door swung open to have your neighbor, Mrs. Miller standing there seething, her mini chihuahua perched in her arms like it was her newborn child. Gojo stopped in his tracks, still heavily breathing like some out of shape forty year old.

“Why you little!” Mrs. Miller reached out to grab you, only for you to duck her failed attempt of dragging you back. Gojo jumped up and down with an amused smile on his face, calling out for you to run faster, which you try to comply as best as possible. You run over to Gojo as fast as your legs would carry you, locking arms and running to who knows where, you can’t quite remember each detail. After that point the rest of the night was a blur to you, still thirteen years later. The sound of Mrs. Miller’s feisty chihuahua, later identified as ‘FeFee’ chasing after you being the most exciting part of the whole ordeal. Gojo and you laughing your way home, still heaving from running so fast from the tiny animal, a ‘disgrace’ to the dog community as he called it.

You both promised that after the scare of possibly having to raise a baby at the ripe age of 14, (and almost having bloody ankles due to FeFee) that fucking each other would be a one time thing.

But it wasn’t.

“F-fuck..! mhmph—God!” He continuously rammed into you from the back, his hands gripping your waist so hard it felt like you had broken bones. Your halloween costume was now thrown somewhere in the corner of this bedroom, who’s bedroom? You had no idea, but at the moment you couldn’t give two shits.

“Yeah? You like that baby?” Gojo thrusted harder, making a broken cry fall from your lips like water. “Knew you c-couldnt…resist my cock any longer, bitch.” Possessed grunts come from him at each thrust and movement he makes. Vibrations from the music of the party travel through the walls, Gojo going deeper and faster to the sound of the horrible rave music downstairs.

If it wasn’t a party, people might of thought a murder was going on by the sounds of your wails of pleasure, but it was normal to fuck at a party, no matter the location.

Tears seep into the pillow that the side of your face was squished down onto, mascara running down your face as you sob from a mixture of pain and pleasure. “Gojo!” you sob, the pleasure becoming too much to bare, yet you couldn’t get the established safe word (which you two only made in 10th grade because you overstimulated him by riding his cock to the point of him passing out) to come out. His dick was that fucking good.

The sound of his heavy, cum filled balls coming in contact with your plush ass make you clench around his length, causing an animalistic moan from Gojo. A room echoing SMACK comes in contact with your ass, making you thrust your back into him, fucking him right back. The burning of the stinging sensation leaves you wanting more, the feeling of his hand still lingering on your left cheek.

Gojo begins going at an alarmingly hasty pace, his whole body aching for more of you, all of you, every single cell. The sound of your sloppy pussy squelching each time he pulls in and out, makes the heat in the pit of his stomach rise. By now you can’t see clearly, eyes welled up with tears and the remains of gooey eyelash glue. One of his hands leave your sore hip, grasping into your messy locks, giving it a good tug “MHMP! ….F-f—fuck!” This only causes him to yank your whole head back, you look up through your lashes, which are stuck together with a mixture of glue and sweat.

“Y-yeah,” he huffs, gripping your roots to a point of it being just downright painful. “keep looking at me….yeah mhmph—j-just like that.” The intense eye contact makes his thrusts even quicker and more efficient, his fat, squishy balls hitting your puffy clit over and over. “So fuckin’ tight for me.” Another hard spank wipes itself across both of your cheeks, the jiggle of them causing yet another guttural moan from Gojo’s throat.

Your soppy wet cunt drips all down his cock, his balls picking up the reminisce of your warm, flowing juices. Gojo’s fingers unravel themselves from your now frizzy hair, the thought of having to wash it later tonight makes you internally groan. His fingers make a slow, tantalizing path up and down your back, the contrast evident between his soft, gentle touch and his monstrous rock hard cock going in and out of your folds. Your face plants back down in the tear-drenched pillow case, the bed creaking from the force of your two bodies going at it.

His slow paced, soft finger touches come to an abrupt end when it meets your soft breasts. An aching cry sounding from your lips as his pointer and thumb mesh together around your now hard nipple. “Mhm…look at you…all whiny for m-me.“ He thrusts harder, your cervix feeling almost numb and incredibly bruised. At this point, your slobbering at the mouth like a dog with rabies, eyes rolling to the back of your brain each time his cock hits every delicious spot.

Gojo’s movements start to get sloppy, as well does the kisses he starts to place on your neck, back, and shoulders. The quick erratic pace starts to slow, forearms trembling from the strength he’s used to hold them on the side of your head all night. His thrusts are slow, long, almost like he’s grinding in slow motion, yet it’s not any less effective. Your thighs begin to shake with overwhelming pleasure, the pressure your body is holding in making you wanna scream it all out. “Mhmph g-gonna cum!” You practically scream a moan out, making Gojo’s lips turn upwards in a smug grin. His lips make their way from the left side of your neck to the middle, and then to the right, leaving a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses in their wake. Dark red and purple bruised hickeys are now spread all down your body, surely to be left there for weeks to come.

“Nuh uh…not yet,” Gojo grunts as he feels your warm cunt clench around his throbbing cock for the millionth time that night. “This is my pussy…I g-get to tell you when to cum.” You almost wanna roll your eyes at his statement but your too drunk off his cock to care. You attempt to protest, the knot in your stomach becoming too hot to handle, but you get shut up right away when his fingers twist around your sensitive nipple once more, letting out a deep moan from your soul. Your hands grip the silk sheets in desperation, needing to grab something in order to keep you stable. “Mhm, tell me baby…who’s pussy is this?”

You cry into the pillow, pain, pleasure, and the feeling of being absolutely turned on in your whines. After not answering right away, Gojo grabs you by the hair again, yanking your head back, causing your neck to stretch to lengths you didn’t even know you had the flexibility to do so. “I asked, who does…this pussy belong to?” He says through gritted teeth. You feel every 8 inches of his cock in your stretched out pussy, every inch filling you up to as much as you could take. Each vein, the pounding pulse that acts as a second heartbeat, every thick, gurthy inch. When you don’t respond for the second time, too delirious to even understand what’s going on, he throws your head roughly back into the pillow, picking up his pace again.

Everything able to clench on your body does, gripping the pillow with such force that your knuckles turn white. Drops of sweat patter onto your back from Gojo’s forehead, the warm salty liquid making you squirm. Another sudden spank lands on your fat ass cheeks, and you couldn’t help but let loose. “FUCK—GOJO!” Strings of loud breaking moans and screams escape your mouth, sounding like a real murder now.

Gojo throws his head back once he feels your warm, sticky cum surround his palpitating cock. He pumps his dick back into you, pushing your cum back into your dripping wet cunt as far as his cock would let it. He himself finally let’s go, the thin string in his body snaps as his warm liquids mix with yours, in all too familiar feeling. His deep moans rush right to your core, the thrusts becoming inconsistent and sloppy once more. You hear the big analog clock from the entry way downstairs, giving you a slight reminder where the hell you were. Some random persons house, where his parents would probably be any second, and maybe you were even fucking in their bed. You bite your lip, slightly turned on by the fact of possibly getting caught, like you were a teenager back home, sucking Gojo’s cock before his father returned from work.

You whisper moan Gojo’s name over and over like a mantra, in other words, thanking him for finally giving you what your aching pussy had needed. You can tell he’s grateful too, being more gentle as if he had not just fucked your lights out. Caressing your back, like he did the first time this toxic relationship began back in 9th grade. Any memory loss from him talking to that girl just an hour ago was completely thrown out the window, even though you knew deep down you were just like her. One of his play things, the only difference was you weren’t oblivious to his motives. In fact you played into them, driving the toxicity just as much as he did. It made it fun that way. No matter how many guys you fucked, the number of cocks you sucked, the lips you kissed, none of them compared to his, and it made you feel sick in the most pleasurable way possible.

Gojo eventually pulls out, after speaking strange sweet nothings into your ear, which you haven’t heard since he was fifteen. You hated how it made your heart feel so warm, unlike the feeling of the cool air hitting your cunt. The cold air makes you wince, missing his cock already despite still feeling it’s outline in your folds. Fingers leave your hard, tender nipples, bringing them down to your dripping cunt, wiping the access off your thighs.

You start to come back to reality from the moment, the room still filled with humid sticky air caused by the amount of hot breaths and touches made throughout. The only sounds now being your heavy breathing, reminding you of the night you two ran away from FeFee, and slurping from Gojo, licking away at his fingers coated with your sweet salty release. Your folds still leaking with a mixture of your cum, trickling down your painfully sore thighs.

Gojo looks at the syrupy goodness leaking onto the silk sheets, a liquid you would only expect to see on waffles at the local cafe down the street. He finally collapses on top of you, softly massaging your right side, face pressed into the crook of your sweating neck. Placing gentle kisses on your sticky skin, bodies molded into one by your muggy bodies. You savor the moment, knowing deep down in your heart that things would go back to how they were in just a couple hours, fighting, screwing other girls and guys, and all together, a toxic romance.

You sit on the curb, voices from the party still able to be heard as you wait for your cab. You sit there like you’ve been through hell and back, you were if it meant having the best sex you’ve had in a good long while. Sitting on one cheek, the other still too sore to have pressure applied to it, you hear a ding from your phone. You wait a minute, trying to calm your pounding headache from both the alcohol and the amazing sex you just endured. The cool fall air blowing past you as you open the text you received, a small smirk tugged up your chapped lips.

⎜1:34 am Mr. Cock (Gojo): had fun. see u next halloween baby 🫴🏻🍑

[fuckyeahgoodomens]

The Good Omens Season 2 Soundtrack! 😍❤🎵

The Soundtrack CD has wonderful cover and pics and look at the brilliant booklet! :D When you open it it looks like a box with a fly! :D

Options :):

(best to use the local store of course :), the Silva Screen page is thewebpage of the recording company)

CD:

Silva Screen 15.99 €

Amazon.co.uk £10.99

Amazon.com $30.79

Vinyl:

Silva Screen 39.99 €

Amazon.com $53.99

Digital:

Silva Screen 10.99 €

More digital listening options :) (some free)

Episode description and Track Listing :):

CHAPTER 1: THE ARRIVAL - Retired angel Aziraphale and retired demon Crowley's lives are upended when a visitor arrives on the doorstep of Aziraphale's bookshop, bringing chaos. Local shopkeepers Maggie and Nina get locked in to Nina's coffee shop when Crowley loses his temper. Heaven and Hell are suspicious, and Crowley and Aziraphale have a disagreement.

1. Before the Beginning 2. Good Omens 2 Opening Title 3. Into Soho 4. Something Terrible 5. To The Bookshop 6. Maggie and Nina 7. He’s Smoking 8. Tiny Miracle 9. Heavenly Alarm Bells

CHAPTER 2: THE CLUE featuring the minisode A COMPANION TO OWLS - Heaven and Hell are determined to find the missing angel. An overheard song provides Aziraphale with a Clue. Crowley and Aziraphale visit the pub to discuss ways that humans fall in love. While almost 5,000 years ago Crowley is sent to inflict punishments on the righteous Job, God's favourite person, as Aziraphale learns at first hand about temptation, and what Gabriel will and won't believe.

10. Avaunt! 11. The Song is the Clue 12. It’s What God Wants 13. A Mighty Wind 14. Whales 15. Gabriel Returns 16. His New Children 17. Am I Awful Now? 18. Fallen Angel

CHAPTER 3: I KNOW WHERE I'M GOING featuring the minisode THE RESURRECTIONISTS - Heaven sends the angel Muriel in disguise to spy on Aziraphale and Crowley. Aziraphale drives to Edinburgh in pursuit of his Clue, and learns a little about a lot. The couple's visit to Edinburgh in 1827 involves graverobbery, a statue and an unfortunate encounter with a vial of laudanum. In the present, Crowley is in charge of the bookshop, and is disappointed by human beings and the weather.

19. Police Arrive 20. Scotland 21. We’re Going to Hell 22. People Get a Choice 23. My Car is Not Yellow 24. Beelzebub in Hell 25. The Book 26. The Fly 27. Mr. Dalrymple 28. We Need to Cut 29. I’m Going to Save Her 30. Crowley Goes Large 31. Not Kind 32. Beelzebub Isn’t Happy

CHAPTER 4: THE HITCHHIKER featuring the minisode NAZI ZOMBIE FLESHEATERS - Aziraphale's good deed of picking up a hitchhiker on his way back to Soho proves to be a serious mistake. In 1941 Crowley and Aziraphale encounter some surprising adversaries, old and new, as the Nazi spies who almost entrapped Aziraphale return as zombies from the dead, intent on preventing him from attempting a bullet catch on the West End stage.

33. Hell-O 34. Nazi Zombies 35. March of the Nazi Zombies 36. Crowley Pep Talk 37. The Magic Shop 38. Catch The Bullet 39. Zombies in the Dressing Room

CHAPTER 5: THE BALL - Aziraphale tries to bring Maggie and Nina together by organising a meeting of the Whickber Street Shopkeepers and Street Traders Association. In Hell, Shax is determined to launch a full scale attack on the bookshop, with a legion of demons at her command. Nina's heart is broken, as is a bookshop window. Gabriel has a close encounter with Mrs Sandwich and a small plate of cakes.

40. I’ll Let You Have It 41. We’re Storming a Book Shop 42. Monsieur Azirophale 43. The Candelabra 44. Here Comes Hell 45. Gabriel Gives Himself Up 46. Shax 47. The Circle

CHAPTER 6: EVERY DAY - Crowley becomes a Heavenly bee and learns the truth about the Armageddon sequel. Aziraphale defends his bookshop from Shax's army and reveals his halo, Maggie and Nina become warriors, and Jim the assistant bookseller gets some hot chocolate. Crowley and Aziraphale get to the bottom of the mystery of the Matchbox. The Metatron brings an oat milk latte, along with a final offer.

48. Bin Through the Window 49. Gabriel Leaving Heaven 50. The Halo 51. Gabriel Revealed 52. Gabriel’s Love Story 53. Leaving The Bookshop 54. Gabriel and Beelzebub 55. Crowley and Muriel 56. I Forgive You 57. Don’t Bother 58. The Biggest Decision 59. The End?

The vinyl should look like this :) (damn, it gorgeous toooo! :D):

[ghettogirly]

how do you think armando would react if He is too much in love with the reader, but she is younger than him (I mean Armando is obviously twenty-eight but the reader is still in his 20s) I would appreciate it very much, I love you 💗🌷✨

I don't know how many times I've ordered, but here I am again 🛐🙃♥️

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎 𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐀𝐒 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍:

𝐀��𝐄 𝐆𝐀𝐏!

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: 𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎 𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐀𝐒 𝐗 𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑!𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

-> synopsis: how would armando be when loving a girl who’s 10 years younger than him? armando is 32 and the reader is 22.

-> theme: age gap, comedy, suggestive.

-> format: headcanon/drabble.

-> warnings: mention of age gap relationships, mature language.

-> authors note: i’m going to be putting updates out slower since I’m not that well guys. nevertheless i hope you enjoyed! I love your requests!! 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝! 🌸

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

[🌸] 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐌𝐄𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆:

-> older!armando would literally first meet you when he picked his son, Alejandro, up from class.

-> it would be the first time meeting you as you’re a new teacher in the school.

-> so when he came to pick up his son, it’s safe to say you was utterly shocked at the resemblance and at the way they both acted.

-> Armando displayed the same cheekiness Alejandro did, smiling at you as his son was going on about his day.

-> “Parece que realmente disfruta de tus clases.”

-> “he’s a lot like you.”

-> “they say that, gotta come see from the source though, eh?”

-> oh.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

[🌸] 𝐈𝐍𝐅𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍:

-> you found out that Armando is divorced ,

honestly you was kind of happy.

-> it may be inappropriate to admire your own student’s father but what can you do if he’s the most attractive man you’ve saw in your life.

-> he noticed your staring but didn’t mind, he thought you was the most beautiful woman to exist too.

-> so he took his chances and asked you out.

-> to which you accepted.

𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐀 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐀 𝐁𝐘 𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐀.

-> he took you to an 90s themed restaurant where old school rnb was playing, wanting you to hear the music that was around when he was younger.

-> getting to know each other, you found out that he was a business owner. Having multiple offices around Miami helping those to build their perfect house.

-> “all those beautiful houses you see in Miami, i’ve built most of them.”

-> “i never would’ve imagined that’s the work you do.”

-> seeing him laugh and smile literally made your heart warm. “what can i say? i like getting my hands a bit dirty.”

-> you nearly choked on your drink. Armando was definitely enjoying seeing you flustered, making these tiny comments from even the moment he met you.

-> ordering food, you both ate and enjoyed each others presence.

-> “¿Te importa que sea mayor que tú?”

-> your eyes widened at the question. Putting your utensils down, you looked up at him to which he waiting for your answer.

-> “You would be the oldest man i’ve ever spoken to romantically but i don’t object to the idea of it.”

-> He smiled at that. “Good.”

-> after the date, he drove you back home as it was a little bit after 9pm. You thanked him and then kissed his cheek as a thank you.

-> wanting more, he lightly turned your face to his and gave you a peck on your lips. Making you blush at his bold advance.

-> “Hopefully i’ll see you again soon.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

[🌸] 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄:

-> it’s been a couple months into yours and Armando’s relationship.

-> Honestly one of the healthiest relationships you’ve been in.

-> he always picks you up from work, not wanting you to walk back anymore, especially after a long day.

-> you always stay over at his on the weekend, relaxing with him and Alejandro by watching some movies or even going out to the park.

-> The age gap between you and Armando can be visible at some points, especially when it comes to social media.

“Nena, ¿sabes qué es tiktok?”

-> You nearly laughed at him even mentioning it. “What do you know about tiktok?”

“My employees told me to download it but i just don’t get the app.”

“Stick to facebook babe.”

-> even with things like his email, you noticed that he was using @yahoo.com

“Who uses yahoo email?!”

“Me.”

-> nevertheless, you wouldn’t trade the relationship for anything else, inheriting both a family and a man who loves you for you. Bombarding you with compliments everyday.

-> “You look absolutely stunning today babe.”

“New hair?”

“Looks great on you.”

-> Life was great, even with a man who’s 10 years older than you.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

[🌸] 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐒𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒: 

“Parece que realmente disfruta de tus clases.”: he seems to really enjoy your classes.

“ ¿Te importa si soy mayor que tú?”: Do you mind if i’m older than you?

“Nena, ¿sabes qué es tiktok?”: Baby, what is tiktok?

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

[🌸] 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @dyttomori @tyneshaaa @shurisgf @milliumizoomi @sarcasticbitchsblog @armandosbabymama @thedarkworldofhananerea @amplifiedmoan @deadpool15 @wizewhispers @5tarlan7

[roosterforme]

Sloppy Math Homework | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

Summary: Bradley is the first one to admit that he always has been and always will be a sucker for how smart you are. There's something so hot about you in teacher mode, and he loves it when you take charge. But he's in for a surprise when you dole out a new kind of punishment for turning in sloppy work that leaves him fully at your mercy.

Warnings: Swears, fluff, smut, teacher/18+ student roleplay, spanking, paddling, consensual roleplay punishment

Length: 2400 words

Pairing: Beer Boy and Sugar! Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader (former fuckboy college student Bradley)

This is a one-shot to accompany my fics Old Habits Die Hard and Right Girl, Wrong Time! Banner by @mak-32 Check out my masterlist

Bradley's heart was pounding when he walked through the front door to find you still dressed in your work clothes even though you got home around lunchtime on Fridays. He had been prepared to start cooking dinner, but the sight of you in your loafers and snug tweed skirt was enough to make his cock twitch.

"Are you ready for class, Mr. Bradshaw?" you asked, hands on your hips and one eyebrow raised. 

He took a deep breath and nodded slowly before he said, "I am so ready for calculus class, Dr. Sugar." Your smirk had his brain working overtime, wondering what exactly you had in mind for him. A blowjob if he aced his exam? Sex on your desk if he could solve the equation tattooed at the top of your ribcage? A handjob that lasted as long as he could accurately recite the decimals in pi?

It didn't matter what it was, he wanted it. He was aching for it. Bradley was a mess for his wife. And when you shook your pretty head at him standing there in his uniform and said, "You're not dressed for class," he could feel his cock pressing the inside of his zipper through his underwear. 

He glanced down at his khaki shirt and pants. "What should I be wearing, Professor?" he asked in a low, deep voice that had you getting a little flustered. He could tell. He knew all of your cues, and right now you were squeezing your thighs together.

You cocked your head slightly to the side and eyed him up and down. "I just don't think that's what a college student would be wearing to his weekly math lecture, Beer Boy."

Ah, okay. So you wanted college Beer Boy right now. Bradley could absolutely deliver on that for you. "Sorry, Professor," he mumbled, looking at the floor and his boots. "You're right. I'm not dressed appropriately for your class."

You nodded and said, "Meet me in my office when you're ready to learn something new." And with that, you spun and disappeared down the hallway leaving Bradley to watch the sway of your ass in all that tight tweed fabric. 

You were sexy academia personified for him, and he loved it so much when you wanted to be in charge. But truly, Bradley felt a little bad for the twenty something year old guys who had to sit through your classes. You just looked that good. You looked good when you were at The University of Virginia as a math major, and somehow you looked even hotter now as a math professor. 

He smirked. He'd enjoyed your body at both of those points in time. And he was the only one who knew exactly where and how much you'd filled out from your twenties to your thirties. "Shit," he grunted, realizing he was wasting time thinking about your tits when he could probably be looking at them. 

Bradley tore into the bedroom, unbuttoning his shirt as he went. He was already hard enough that it was challenging to get his uniform pants off, but he managed to leave a pile of khaki clothing on the floor as he rummaged around for his favorite Grateful Dead shirt. It was neatly folded in the dresser with your clothing since you wore it way more frequently than he did. But he pulled it on and found the University of Chicago hat you'd given him and tossed it on backwards. You always liked to run your fingers through his curls that stuck out from beneath his hats, and Bradley was practically panting just thinking about it.

He palmed himself through his boxer shorts as he pushed your office door open a little wider, grinning where you'd written SUGAR LOVES BEER BOY across it. And then he spotted you, sitting on the edge of the desk with your legs crossed. A few more of the buttons on your blouse were open now, and you were gesturing to your desk chair. 

"Have a seat, Mr. Bradshaw." Your voice was soft and sultry, nothing like the tone you used when you gave a lecture to your students. How did he get this fucking lucky? 

"Yes, Dr. Sugar," he replied, and you smirked. He stepped closer to the soft glow coming from his navy desk lamp which lived in this room, and he slipped down into your chair. Bradley desperately wanted to run his hands up your legs and tuck them inside your skirt, but he knew he wouldn't be allowed. So instead, he took the pencil and calculator you handed to him and looked up at your pretty face.

"I want you to work on your math homework sheet," you whispered, flipping over the single sheet of paper in front of him on the desk. Then you leaned down and kissed his temple, brushing your lips along the hair sticking out from under his cap. "Get started."

Bradley groaned softly, unsure how exactly he was going to be able to do this when his cock was aching so much. Plus, you were making no secret of the fact that you were looking at his tented boxers like you wanted to climb in his lap. 

"You're really proud of yourself, aren't you?" he asked, punching some numbers into the calculator to try to solve the first problem. "You got me so hard, I can barely concentrate, and all you did was talk to me and kiss my fucking hair."

You stroked your fingers along the strands of his hair you had kissed and said, "No cursing in my classroom. And no talking at all while you're working."

Bradley grunted as he scribbled down an answer for the first problem that he was actually pretty sure was correct. Visiting your evening lectures had really started to pay off. He'd always been pretty good at math, but now he was proficient in calculus and linear algebra. The only problem was, when most people thought about school, it turned them off. But simply looking at math problems made him harder. There was probably something wrong with him. 

You hummed as he answered the second equation, but when he looked up at your face, you said, "Eyes on your paper, Mr. Bradshaw."

"Yes, Professor," he whispered, and he was rewarded with the sight of you licking your lips. He was aching for a blowjob right now. He might get one if all of his answers were correct. So as quickly as he could, Bradley finished the remaining questions and slid the paper closer to you. "How did I do?"

You sank your teeth into your lip as you looked at him. Then you took the paper in your hands and murmured, "Let's see..."

Every little twitch of your brow and the way your eyes narrowed after a moment were telling enough, but when you met his gaze over the paper, he knew he had missed one. 

"If you just give me another minute, Dr. Sugar-"

"I gave you plenty of time already, Mr. Bradshaw," you said, stroking along his scarred cheek with your nails as you set the paper aside. You wrapped your fingers down along his chin and tipped his face up to meet yours. When you leaned in and kissed his lips sweetly, he was immediately reaching for your body. But then you jerked his chin up another inch and said, "But you missed number five, and I don't accept sloppy math homework."

Bradley groaned as your nails raked down his neck, because this was doing nothing to alleviate his erection. And now he was a little nervous about that problem he missed. "Does this mean you're going to make me take care of this myself?" he whispered, gesturing to his tented boxer shorts. 

The devilish smirk on your face actually thrilled him as you said, "Not exactly." Then you stood and took both of his hands gently in yours and pulled him to his feet. Bradley groaned as his erection trailed up your body until his length was resting against your belly. You pressed one more kiss to his lips and adjusted his backward cap as he throbbed against you. Then you stepped to the side and guided him to place both of his palms on your desk. 

Bradley looked at you and asked, "What's happening here?" Then you walked behind him and pushed the chair toward the center of the room, and Bradley felt your hands reach inside the elastic of his boxer shorts and start to guide them down until they dropped down to his feet. 

"What's happening is your punishment for your sloppy homework. Keep your palms on the desk, Mr. Bradshaw." You ran your hands softly along Bradley's ass, and he didn't move an inch. His cock was painfully hard now and leaping in the air, begging to be touched. 

He turned to his left where you were kissing along his neck now as you squeezed his ass. He moaned, "Baby, I might cum. I'm not even kidding."

You gasped and slapped his ass, and Bradley's jaw dropped open. "Baby? I'm your teacher! Show me some respect."

"P-Professor Sugar," he managed as his skin stung where you hit him. Then to Bradley's surprise, you opened the top drawer of your desk, and sitting right next to your post it notes was his Beta Gamma fraternity paddle. It was made of solid oak and painted in a psychedelic tie dye pattern that he always thought looked really cool. But the last time he saw the thing, it was on top of the bedroom closet. And as you wrapped your fingers around the handle, it dawned on Bradley why it was here and why he was standing like this.

His eyes snapped up to meet yours, and the look of mischief was gone as you squeezed his bicep and kissed the edge of his mustache. "I thought it might be fun to spank you, Beer Boy. But if you say no, then I'll put it away, and we can find something else fun to do."

Bradley eyed the paddle, and his mind was flooded with memories of his fraternity days. Not all of them were good, but he'd met you at his frat house. And you were the best thing in his life. And for some reason, the idea of that tie dye paddle hitting his bare skin was actually appealing to him. This was not something he had ever thought about before, but in the hands of his wife, he wanted it.

"Yes," he replied, kissing your lips as you started to smile. "I want you to, Professor Sugar."

You nodded and whispered, "If you don't like it, just tell me." Then you squared your shoulders and said in a louder voice, "I can't go easy on you, because you'll keep pulling this stunt over and over with me."

"I understand," he replied, letting you bend him a little more at the waist as you strolled around to stand behind him. And then he yelped as the paddle made solid contact with his right ass cheek. "Oh, fuck." But no sooner had he muttered those words than the paddle hit him in the same spot again. The stinging was intense as you apparently wound up to send the paddle to the same place a third time. "Baby," he whined, because if anything, he was more turned on than before.

Your only response was to switch to his other side and bring the paddle to an untouched patch of skin. Over and over until it was burning so much that Bradley was recoiling from the sound and feel of it. But his hips were thrusting forward now, and he was practically begging for relief from your mouth or your pussy. But he kept his palms planted on the top of the desk. And the pleasure and stinging pain mingled in his mind so much that he found himself whining your name. 

A moment later, you set the paddle on the desk next to his left hand, and Bradley looked up into your lust filled eyes. "Sugar?" he gasped, and you were prying his hands from the desk and pulling him close. Your lips came crashing into his as you grabbed at his shirt. He was rutting into you now, afraid he'd cum on your tweed but unwilling to try to hold himself back. 

"Bradley, that was so fucking hot," you moaned, turning him around and pushing him down to sit on the desk. It felt delightfully cold on his raw skin, but he winced at the same time. It was almost too much to handle. But then you were yanking your skirt up to reveal you were bare underneath, and you scrambled up onto his lap. 

"Easy," he groaned, squeezing his eyes shut. But then your perfectly tight warmth came sinking down around his cock, and he knew he was going to last about ten seconds in this state. He shook his head and whispered, "I'm gonna cum."

You held his face gently in both hands and kissed his forehead as you told him, "You earned it." And all the while you bounced up and down on him, bottoming out and whining softly.

So Bradley took your perfect ass in both of his palms and guided you just how he wanted you, and then he filled you up with his cum. You were peppering his cheeks with kisses as he sat there with his lips parted, trying to catch his breath. 

"You just spanked me with my Beta Gamma paddle. For my sloppy math homework," he marveled out loud, still nestled inside you. "When I'm not even your student."

You let your cheek come to rest on his shoulder and said, "You're my best student." Then your fingers were teasing at his curls sticking out from under his hat. "And if you enjoyed it, we can do it again."

Bradley groaned and said, "My ass needs a couple days off after that." Then he smirked as he reached for the paddle and rubbed it gently across your bare bottom. Your eyes went wide as your head came off his shoulder. "Yours on the other hand..."

--------------------------

Oh look, a new kink unlocked for Beer Boy and Sugar. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@chassy21

@solacestyles

@avoirlecoupdefoudre

@daisyhollyxox

@throwinsauce

@awesomebooklover17

@wintercap89

@whosyourgnomie4

@rosesinmars

@blog-name6996

@bcon24

@wishfulwithwine

@backinwonderl4nd

@tetragonia

@gingerbreadandpaper

@emptyloverofmine

@chaoticassidy

@missmirandafe

@changlingkhat

@sugarcoated-lame

@avada-kedavra-bitch-187

@katiebby04

@marantha

@averyhotchner

@abaker74

@heli991113

@k-k0129

@noz4a2

@tallyovie

@shanimallina87

@teddyluvs2sing

@little-wiseone

@ccbb2222

@lilyevanswhore

@o-the-o-grim-o-reaper-o

@xoxabs88xox

@thedroneranger

@bradshawsbitch

@cherrycola27

@fanboyswhore9

@xomrsalliej4787xo

@desert-fern

@sylviebell

@wkndwlff

@horseslovers2016

[the-case-book-of-fanfiction]

Love Bites {Masterlist}

With your memory spotty, you gravitate toward the first person you see—an old friend from a very old past. But Astarion is keeping plenty of secrets...and he's never been the best liar. How long will it take before his deceptions unravel? And what will you do when you realize just how much damage he's done?

Ship: Astarion Ancunin x fem!vampire spawn!elf!Tav/reader

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, vampire spawn!Tav, fem!Tav, manipulative but guilty/regretful Astarion, Astarion's sexual trauma, Cazador, vampire bite, reader is turned into a spawn, reader is technically one of Astarion's victims

18+ Warnings: vaginal sex, consensual sex, mirror sex, riding, fingering, oral, blood kink, bite kink, loving sex, non-descriptive noncon/dubcon (Astarion’s trauma), Astarion experimenting with his boundaries

Total Word Count: 47,397 words (87 pages)

Notes: The title of this fic (and some of its chapter titles) is heavily inspired by Def Leppard's song Love Bites.

Posting Schedule can be found on my {Updates Page}

CONTENT NOTE: Where Astarion's perspective comes into this fic, I tried writing his experience with his hurt that he has been treated this way along with his "this is what I do" mentality; he's very back and forth about the abuse he's endured and some of my writing reflects that. If that upsets you or makes you uncomfortable in anyway, I completely understand and I encourage you to leave the fic at any point. However, I do believe writing this perspective is necessary, as his blasé take on his sexual trauma is one that I myself have struggled with, as I am sure other survivors have as well.

☟ story parts linked below ☟

Best Unremembered {Chapter 1} Waking up with a spotty memory and the only person you do remember is jarring enough—but it only gets worse when the people who remember you are monsters and strangers.

Walking Corpses {Chapter 2} Astarion's night spent searching for prey is interrupted by an unwelcome feeling of familiarity. Your life is derailed by recognizing a long-dead friend.

Little Love {Chapter 3} Appearances can be deceiving, but they can also tell you everything you need to know. A second look at the elf you once called a friend is all you need to fill in the two-hundred year gap.

The Golden Elf {Chapter 4} Sometimes, vampires choose their spawn specifically. Sometimes, they're in the wrong place at the wrong time and are lost to their loved ones for centuries. These days, that's all you can think about.

Little Star, Little Sun {Chapter 5} A long-awaited reunion that doesn't go quite as planned can lead to many things, especially when two manipulators both lay their traps for one another. Though is it really a trap when all you want to do is spare your lover from yet another night of torment?

Love Bites {Chapter 6} Astarion remembers you, but it's already too late. He's bedded you and remembered the love and life you had together, two hundred years ago, and now he has to make a choice. Does he sacrifice himself, or does he sacrifice you?

Love Bleeds {Chapter 7} Fangs gleam in the shadows and a coffin lies open nearby. Vampire lords are nasty creatures; even a changed heart can do very little when there are claws around it.

On My Knees {Chapter 8} A betrayal so severe even centuries of love threaten to break beneath its weight. Yet you offer forgiveness, even if Astarion has not felt its kindness in two hundred years.

Second Chances {Epilogue} Home is a place and home is people. You have quite the large family now, and it's time to provide for them, however you may.

Love Bites Soundtrack — 3h50min

Chapter 1: tracks 1 - 6 Chapter 2: tracks 7 - 13 Chapter 3: tracks 14 - 19 Chapter 4: tracks 20 - 26 Chapter 5: tracks 27 - 32 Chapter 6: tracks 33 - 40 Chapter 7: tracks 41 - 46 Chapter 8: tracks 47 - 53 Epilogue: tracks 54 - 60

[Image Caption: I do not give permission to repost, translate, or publish my work on any other site or app by anyone except myself. I do not give permission for my work to be fed into AI (for audio, art, or writing).]

Baldur's Gate 3 // Astarion Ancunin

Taglist: {comment and let me know if you'd like to be added to the Astarion taglist!} @wayward-hel @cheeslyy @ofmyth-andmagicart @neetheslayer @whispering-depths @freesidexjunkie @lightsinmycity @the0ldmann @gobbodoggo @oooof-ifellforyou @beeblisss @fangboner @aquaarietes @fiercest-eigengrau-skies @niqhtfell @call-me-nyxx @lueji-m @ceres-xiv @tricksy-trinity @graynstairs @rosa-rubus @ynisthatyou @thegoodwitchs-blog @catching-fire-in-the-wind @kiyastrf94 @vincemachina @silverfangmarks @ravenswritingroom @hinata7346 @hellethil @caramel-hufflepuff @beemiilk @mypainischronicbutmyassisiconic @starwatch77 @julianmarie @sadexistentialism @supernaturallover15 @writinghound @frankie-mercury @kindadolly @infernalrusalka

[todaysdocument]

Homestead Proof Testimony of Almanzo Wilder

Record Group 49: Records of the Bureau of Land ManagementSeries: Homestead Final Certificates

HOMESTEAD PROOF --- TESTIMONY OF WITNESS A. J. Sheldon being called as a witness in support of the Homestead entry of Almanzo J Wilder for NE- 21-111-56. testifies as follows: Ques. 1-What is your occupation, and where is your residence? Ans. Farmer Sec 10-111-56. Ques. 2-Have you been well acquainted with Almanzo J Wilder the claimant, in this case ever since he made his Homestead entry No. Ans. Yes. for 5 year. [^I think] he had taken his land at [Yorktown] about 3 weeks before I met him. Ques. 3-Was claimant qualified to make said entry? (State whether the settler was a citizen of the United States, over the age of twenty-one years, or the head of a family, and whether he ever made a former Homestead entry.) Ans. Yes. Citizen of U.S. over 21 yer old. Single. Never made former hd entry. Ques. 4-When did claimant settle upon the homestead and at what date did he establish actual residence thereon? (Describe the dwelling and other improvements, giving total value thereof.) Ans. About Oct. 1st 1879. same time. House - frame about 12 ft. square. 2 doors. 3 windows. Stable. frame. Well of water. Cellar. Acres broken & cultivated. Some trees. Value at least $300.00 Ques. 5-Have claimant and family resided continuously on the homestead since first establishing residence thereon? Ans. Single man. Residence continuous Ques. 6-For what period or periods has the settler been absent from the land since making settle- ment, and for what purpose; and if temporarily absent, did claimant's family reside upon and culti- vate the land during such absence? Ans. Was temporarily absent [^at times] working on the R. R. and visiting in Minn. Not more that about 2 months at a time. Ques. 7 -How much of the homestead has the settler cultivated, and for how many seasons did he raise crops thereon? Ans. Acre cultivated. crops on past 4 years. breaking 5 yr. about 20 acres of wheat this year. 1884 Ques. 8-Are there any indications of coal, salines or other minerals of any kind on the Homestead? (If so, describe what they are, and state whether the land is more valuable for agricultural than for mineral purposes.) As. No. No. No. More valuable for agriculture Ques. 9-Has the claimant mortgaged, sold, or contracted to sell, any portion of said Homestead? As. Not to my knowlidge Ques 10-Are you interested in this claim, and do you think the settler has acted in entire good faith in perfecting this entry? Ans. No. nor am I in any way related to claimant. Think he has acted in good faith. A. J. Sheldon I hereby certify that the witness is a person of respectability; that the foregoing testimony was read to him before being subscribed, and was sworn to before me this 12 day of September 1884 W J Barnes +ex officio clerk (See NOTE ON FOURTH PAGE.)

HOMESTEAD PROOF---TESTIMONY OF WITNESS

OC Sheldon being called as witness in support of the Homestead

entry of Almanzo J Wilder for NE 4-21-111-56

testifies as follows:

Ques. 1-What is your occupation, and where is your residence?

Ans. Farmer Sec-10-111-56-

Ques. 2-Have you been well acquainted with Almanzo J Wilder

the claimant, in this case ever since he made his Homestead entry No.

Ans. Yes. for 5 years think he made his hd entry about

3 weeks before I met him.

Ques. 3-Was claimant qualified to make said entry? (State whether the settler was a citizen of

the United States, over the age of twenty-one years, or the head of a family, and whether he ever made

a former Homestead entry.)

Ans. Yes. citizen of U.S. over 21 years old

never made former hd entry

Ques. 4-When did claimant settle upon the homestead and at what date did he establish actual

residence thereon? (Describe the dwelling and other improvements, giving total value thereof.)

Ans. In [fore] part of October 1879 Residence same time.

House 12 by 12 ft frame. 2 doors 1. window stable. cellar

well of water 32 acre broken & cultivated, [sum total]

value $300

Ques. 5-Have claimant and family resided continuously on the homestead since first establishing

residence thereon?

Ans. Single man. Residence continuous

Ques. 6-For what period or periods has the settler been absent from the land since making settle-

ment, and for what purpose; and if temporarily absent, did claimant's family reside upon and culti-

vate the land during such absence?

Ans. Was temporarily absent working on R.R. and

in Minnesota during first winter. [Neccesarily] to

get money to improve his land

Ques. 7-How much of the homestead has the settler cultivated, and for how many seasons did he

raise crops thereon?

Ans. 32 acres cultivated. crops on part 4 years-making 5 [gr.]

20 acres cropped this year 1884

Ques. 8-Are there any indications of coal, salines or other minerals of any kind on the Homestead?

(If so, describe what they are, and state whether the land is more valuable for agricultural than for

mineral purposes.)

Ans. No. No. No. more valuable for agriculture

Ques. 9-Has the claimant mortgaged, sold, or contracted to sell, any portion of said Homestead?

Ans. no no no

Ques. 10-Are you interested in this claim; and do you think the settler has acted in entire good

faith in perfecting this entry?

Ans. No. nor am I in any way related to claimant

think he has acted in good faith. O. C. Sheldon

I hereby certify that the witness is a person of respectability; that the foregoing testimony was read

to him before being subscribed, and was sworn to before me this 12

day of September 1884

OC St W [J] Barnes

+ex officio clerk

[youcouldmakealife]

SOTM: Bryce/Jared, Elaine; Man of the Hour (Day, Week, Month, Year)

For the prompt: One of the articles Bryce mentions. "…like, a profile thing? How it was growing up gay in hockey, that kind of thing… A chance to establish myself as like, I am now,” Bryce says. “Kind of like — not set the record straight, exactly, but like, show I’ve matured and stuff. "

It’s the definition of a typical Vancouver day, drizzly and overcast, when I meet Bryce Marcus. He likely needs no introduction, but I will introduce him anyway: the star centre for the Vancouver Canucks who went from being the enemy while playing for the arch-rival Calgary Flames to becoming possibly the most beloved man in the city: certainly if you you asked the fans streaming out of Rogers Arena after watching the Canucks win the Cup for the third time, or the hundreds of thousands of lining Burrard to cheer on their Canucks at the Stanley Cup Parade on a beautiful sunny day this June.

The weather is anything but glamourous today, however, and at the Marcus Matheson household, the surroundings aren’t either.

Jared Matheson, husband and teammate of Bryce, apologizes as I step over a box in their hallway. “We’re kind of in the middle of a move right now.”

They’re trading their two-bedroom condo for something ‘a little more permanent’. Both have decided that wherever their NHL careers may take them, Vancouver is going to remain home, and they’ve just closed on a house nearby.

“Bryce is weirdly excited about getting to mow the lawn,” Jared tells me as we wait for Bryce to finish getting ready. In light of the hyper-competitive Vancouver real estate market it’s entirely understandable to be excited about lawncare — it means you have a lawn to care for — but one wouldn’t have expected that to extend even to Vancouver’s sports stars.

When Bryce emerges, five minutes after my arrival, he announces himself by swearing as he trips over a box of his own, and then apologising, both for his language and his tardiness.

“He was doing his hair,” Jared says.

“I was not,” Bryce scowls, but doesn’t offer an alternative explanation.

After a quick tour of their condo, which is currently half in boxes, Bryce and I hop into his Audi S8 — naturally courtesy Capilano Audi, whose ads featuring him are inescapable during Canucks games. We drive to Richmond so he can show me his old haunts: elementary, middle, and high school — though he finished high school in Washington while playing for the Spokane Chiefs — his home rink, the Dairy Queen his mother took him after hockey games. He’s a capable, if slightly aggressive driver. I mention this because from the dire warning I received from Jared on the way out the door I genuinely believed I might not survive the drive.

Bryce finally pulls into the driveway of an unassuming but cheerful house on a quiet suburban street. The morning drizzle has faded, and the weather is now just as bright and warm as his childhood home, and the mother who raised him there. Already waiting for us on the porch, his mother Elaine Marcus offers me a glass of lemonade. “Store bought, I’m afraid,” she says with a smile. “I’m not much of homemaker.”

Over lemonade and cookies — “Also store bought,” Elaine admits, “but this bakery is very good!”, and she’s right about that — she shows me an array of childhood and teenage photos while Bryce complains to his mother that she’s ‘embarrassing’ him.

The photos are more inspiring than embarrassing: photo after photo of a beaming little boy in an equally small Canucks jersey, proudly brandishing a plastic mini-stick (Canucks branded, of course). A true example of someone who grew up to live his childhood dream.

Sadly, as he gets a older the smile disappears, as does the man beaming in the background of so many of those happy photos. His father, Ben Marcus, was killed by an impaired driver at the age of 32. It devastated Elaine and Bryce, who was only four at the time.

“It was hard,” Elaine says. “He didn’t understand. I didn’t understand, when it came down to it. It was a hard time. He wanted to play hockey all the time, it was the only thing he wanted. He was really only happy on the ice.”

“I just wanted him to be happy,” she says, smiling tearfully, and as Bryce wraps a protective arm around his mother's shoulders, I offer to give them a moment.

“It was a long time ago,” Elaine says in dismissal, wiping her eyes. “It’s just hard sometimes. Ben loved hockey, loved watching the Canucks with Bryce — he’d have been so proud to see Bryce lift the Cup for them. I am too, of course, but it was always Ben and Bryce’s thing. He would have been so proud.”

I do give them a moment then, and when I return, my lemonade has been refilled and both are all smiles once again, though Bryce's doesn't last. He cringes as we go through photos of his teen years. There’s a sullen look on his face in every picture.

And what was Bryce like as a teenager?

"I'll let him answer that," Elaine says diplomatically.

“I don’t really know,” Bryce says, looking thoughtful. “Angry, I guess. I was an angry kid. And confused.”

About his sexuality?

“Everything was confusing,” Bryce says. “But yeah, definitely that too.”

“Bryce cared so much,” Elaine says. “About everything. He still does. The world’s hardest on the people who care most about it.”

Like so many hockey players who’ve come out since Dan Riley and Marc Lapointe did in 2010, he credits their coming out as a major influence on his journey of coming to terms with his identity as both a gay man and a pro hockey player.

“You don’t really put it together,” Bryce says. He turned sixteen the summer the Leafs won the Stanley Cup, and Riley and Lapointe subsequently came out. “Like, okay, sure, you can be gay and play hockey. Except nobody thought that. I didn’t think that. If you said that, maybe I’d say okay, but I didn’t believe it.”

How, then, did he reconcile being gay and playing hockey?

“That's the thing,” Bryce says. “I didn’t, you know? I was playing hockey, so obviously I wasn’t, right? Because if I was gay, then I wouldn’t be playing, would I?”

“It sounds so ridiculous saying it now,” he reflects. “But that’s what I thought. And I wasn’t the only one.”

But even more than Riley and Lapointe blazing a trail before him, he credits meeting his husband Jared at a hockey skills camp in Calgary. In the year before he met Jared, then twenty year old Bryce was arrested twice, for assault and DWI: the latter in particular shook his mother, considering how his father died.

"I was worried about him," she says. "That's probably an understatement."

“I don’t know where I’d be if I hadn't met Jared,” Bryce says. “I genuinely don’t. I don’t think I’d be out. I know I wouldn’t be happy. You know, everyone says it isn’t like in the movies. Falling in love, I mean. That love at first sight and all that is b******t. But that’s pretty much what it was for me.”

Was it mutual?

Bryce laughs. “You’d have to ask Jared, he tells it better than me,” he says. “But no, not really. I wasn't good enough for him. I'm still not good enough for him, but I try to be."

Another warning I’d received from his husband before my tour around town? That Bryce was an incurable romantic. This warning certainly seems more warranted than the one about Bryce’s driving.

And what does Bryce think about Jared’s warning, and his additional suggestion to take anything Bryce said about him with a healthy grain of salt?

“[Jared]’s just modest,” Bryce says.

“He lights up when Jared’s around,” Elaine says. “It’s just like when he was a little boy — every time he stepped onto the ice, he beamed. It’s the same thing with Jared. He’s so happy. It’s so wonderful to see him like that.”

And how was it, not only getting to play with his husband, but to raise the Stanley Cup together?

“It’s a dream come true,” Bryce says. “Really. I know that’s such a cliche, but so is love at first sight, right? And the hometown boy winning it all for his childhood team. They’re all cliches. But they’re my life.”

“I know just how lucky I am,” Bryce says. “Winning with Jared, with this team — it’s been such a whirlwind of a year.”

I tell him to enjoy it.

“I do,” he says, smiling so widely I have no doubt he’s telling the truth. “I really, really do.”

[save-mohamed-family]

Thank you for documenting my campaign from the following accounts:

@ibtisams @soon-palestine @sar-soor @90-ghost @fairuzfan @ibtisams @fallahifag @northgazaupdates

I am Mohammed Almanasra, 32 years old, married, and a father of three children: Abdulrahman, 6 years old, Sarah, 4 years old, and Lina, 3 years old.

My story began with the loss of my parents and four of my sisters who were bombed and lost their lives along with their children after the events of October 7 and the severe war on Gaza. Now, my wife, children, and I are displaced, without parents or siblings, living with our little cat that we embrace among us.

Recently, I moved to the south of the Gaza Strip, fearing for the lives of my children. We left behind our memories and our new home, for which we had not finished paying the installments, in addition to losing my job. Currently, I live in a tent that does not protect me from the heat of summer or the cold of winter, and without the minimum necessary livinng basics including water, food medical care, clothe and even bedding .

I suffer from a chronic asthma and severe attacks from tightness and an extreme allergy in the ear and I need medicine that are not available, or very expensive .

Under these difficult circumstances, after five attempts at displacement and narrowly escaping death from the bombing, I am trying with all my might to protect my family, the most precious thing I have.

My dreams were shattered, and my house was destroyed, and I found myself living in a tent no larger than 4 square metres. My work turned from a tailor to a street vendor in order to barely buy a few crumbs of bread to feed my children.

My main goal with this donation is to protect my children, my wife, and our scaredy cat and evacuate them to a safe place away from the ongoing wars. The funds will be used to cross the Egyptian border and bring basic needs and treatments to create a more stable conditions for my family. Approximately $18,000 will be allocated for travel expenses, and around $6,000 for securing suitable housing for a couple of months.

As for the medical treatment costs, the exact figure will be determined after undergoing examinations in hospitals in the Arab Republic of Egypt & it gonna be in average $8,000. The remaining amount ($8,000) will be used to establish a small project to sustain our daily living, enabling me to provide for my children and wife.

Look at what happened to my children because of the intense heat and the insects that thrive in the summer season. Every day, I take them to the hospital to treat them due to poisonous insect bites. I implore every kind-hearted soul to help me protect my children.

My son, Abdul Rahman, has a deep passion for playing football and is a devoted fan of Real Madrid. He always dreamed of playing football at his school, but the war prevented this dream from coming true.

Where are you, Real Madrid fans ?

Help Abdul Rahman achieve his dream.

I feel very sad and embarrassed to ask for help, but I have no other options left. I know that this request is difficult, but I also know that there is still humanity and living consciences and I believe in miracles.

If you have any inquiries or questions, feel free to ask me, please!

"I urgently appeal to you for moral and financial assistance to cover the necessary costs to escape to a safe environment, where we can build a secure future for our children and ensure the safety of our family. We thank you for your concern and support, and we hope that you can help us in these difficult circumstances."

Sincere greetings & thanks

Mohammed & the family

[larsnicklas]

What is that people don't understand about Barky?

eh i think it's less that he's misunderstood as it's.... idk. that he flies very under the radar by choice and tends to be overshadowed by flashier personalities. on purpose. i guess if there's one thing i'd say — with the caveat that none of us know the guy personally! — i don't really think he's shy at all, which is how he was described a TON when he was younger. he speaks when he has something to say and has always had yappers in the leadership group to balance things out lmao. but he's so funny!!! and tbh the older he gets the more he lets his personality show on camera i think lol

i, a longtime nicke enthusiast, am used to basically all of this and even drawn to these traits, and therefore voraciously consume every longform sasha interview/piece that is available to me in order to kind of get a grasp on what makes the guy tick. here are a few of my favorites + a few highlight videos for fun!

SASHA MINI PRIMER ⬇️ aka an incomplete but lovingly curated collection of required reading/videos/essential moments below the cut!!!

📰 Sushi With Sasha: Barkov jests that all being captain really means is, “I have to open my mouth sometimes.” [...] The fact Barkov cracks wise about his quiet ways, though, is in line with a defining characteristic — knowing how to pick your spots, both with the puck and one-liners. “Yeah, that’s exactly it,” says Pittsburgh Penguins defenceman and fellow Finn Olli Maatta. “Definitely not the loudest guy in the room, but when you get to know him he has almost like a sneaky sense of humour.”

🎥 32 Thoughts: Barkov Reminisces About Panthers Magical Playoff Run (he is so cute in this. hair fluffy. smiley. sweet.)

📰 Q&A: Sasha Barkov is home in Finland and discusses his love of chicken wings, Jaromir Jagr and the Miami Heat: How fast does that car go? Well, 65 is the speed limit, right? So, 66. But I think it would hit 200 if you really pushed it.

🎥 Aleksander Barkov Shootout Goals But They Get Increasingly More Impressive (what it says on the tin)

📰 The NHL’s new Patrice Bergeron? Panthers’ Aleksander Barkov fits the bill — ‘He does everything right: Affable as always, Barkov, despite his short offseason, looked noticeably more jacked than he’d even been during the Panthers’ tremendous playoff run. He smiled and extended his hand before discussing his motivation to captain the Panthers back to the spot that had been so grueling to get to in the first place.

📰 Barkov Keeps His Cool: It’s right after one of those long days of work at the rink in November that Barkov, known better around the locker room as “Sasha,” has me on his car’s speakerphone as he works to traverse through a bit of traffic around rush hour. In the background, vehicles can be heard zooming and honking around him. But just like he does on the ice, the Panthers captain is keeping his cool. As he maneuvers through congestion with his foot tap dancing on the pedal, he doesn’t talk much about his extension, but rather of the first time he attempted to traverse the highways of South Florida as a fresh-faced, 18-year-old hockey prodigy during his rookie season in 2013.

🎙️/ 🎥 The Hockey PDOcast Episode: Aleksander Barkov's Defensive Impact and How He Does It (analysis of barkov as a player with accompanying video clips)

🎥 Panthers Celebrate Captain Aleksander Barkov (this video is so fucking funny to me because joe t.hornton just talks for ten seconds about how big sasha is. which. yeah real.)

📰 Dwyane Wade crashes into fan at Heat game -- Panthers star Aleksander Barkov: Barkov said he would like to see Wade at a Panthers game this season. The Panthers play at BB&T Center in Sunrise, which is 35 miles north of AmericanAirlines Arena, where the Heat play. Barkov predicted Wade would get a standing ovation from Panthers fans and said he wouldn't let boards stop him from trying to see Wade during that game. "I'll try my best to fly over him," Barkov said.

🎥 Ask Me Anything | Aleksander Barkov (this is where he says his dream golf quartet is his ex bf his current work wife and his dilf mentor)

📰 Q&A with Sasha Barkov: Fast cars, Miami sports and his first move as NHL commish: Yeah, the palm trees were cool and he really liked the ocean. But he also liked to drive. To do that, he needed to head to the DMV and get himself a Florida driver’s license. “I don’t have a car but I have the license,” Barkov said during his first training camp with the Panthers in 2013. “I failed the first time because I didn’t understand the questions.”

🎥 Laine and Barkov go to town on Finnish chicken wings (literally just a minute long video of them eating chicken wings LOL)

🎥 ALEKSANDER BARKOV VS. PAVEL BARBER | HockeyShot Shootout Challenge! (silly trickshot video... fans throw rats at sasha and he's like thank you :D... it's like an artificial sheet on the beach, sasha is very cute)

[thoughtfullyrainynightmare]

Hiiii!!!! I just finished watching black clover and found your account and have been binging all your fics the whole day!! You're so good at writing o ma gawd.

If it's not too much trouble could I please request for a fic (maybe make it a lil long?🥺) where Fuegoleon and y/n are in an arranged marriage situation with eachother and she's really pretty and they have a big age gap like she's like 6 years younger than him?

She's like his complete opposite- he's a soldier she's not, he liked exercise she likes sitting in a corner of the home library- but they still find themselves attracted to eachother?

I know it's a hyper specific ask so if you don't feel comfortable doing it then that's totally okay too!! But I would appreciate it if you let me know if you're not doing it😁

Hiya~!

I'm glad to hear that you've been on a binge! And that you're enjoying the show ^^

I made this to be a kind of a first meeting thing. And I don't think 6 years is that big of an age gap. Like sure, if you're in your early 20s it might seem so, but once you're in your 30s it's nothing. Speaking as something with an irl 5 year age difference with their spouse ANYWHO, I hope you like this ^^

Pairing: Fuegoleon x f!reader Genre: general/fluff Fanfic type: Oneshot Length: ~0.9k Contains: an arranged marriage prompt, 6 year age difference, reader is an educated woman who isn't the fighting type, office first meeting, smiles and careful tender feelings

What am I doing here? Or. Well. I know perfectly well what I’m doing here. I’m here to meet the man I’m, some day, going to marry. And that day will come rather soon. Far too soon for my liking. Because… while I… Perhaps it’s just a foolish wish of a woman who reads far too many books, I would have liked to marry someone I love, rather than be married off. Though my father deems me of fitting age to marry. 24. I don’t think it’s old, but he deems otherwise. If nothing else, he could have chosen a man who’s closer to my own age. Or at the very least, someone with whom I’d have something in common. Damned hells, I don’t mind having someone who is older than myself, as the men of my own age are nothing but silly boys. Much too juvenile. While older ones tend to have a head on their shoulders. And 5-6 years in age difference… It’s not too bad. In 2 years he’ll be 32 and I’ll be 26. And the further along we go, it’ll just become less significant. Something about women growing up sooner than men. I think that’s where this is going. So… if only we had something in common. But what in common would I have with a soldier? I don’t fight. I don’t do reports. I just… read the news and … enjoy my books. A quiet life. A peaceful life. Yeah, I think ‘peaceful’ is a better word for it. So… this man, who I’m about to meet… I wonder… I wonder what he’ll be like. Someone rugged and battered by battle and life? Someone broken? Jagged? Filled with sharp edges? Someone unruly? Only a few more moments… a few steps… And I’ll have… an idea on how happy, or unhappy, I’ll become…

The doors opened into a study. A room filled with bookshelves. A carpet. And a fireplace in the corner.

A cozy little room.

A room where… you didn’t mind spending some time in.

“Good day, miss,” a voice welcomed you in.

And as you turned your gaze, there was a man with auburn hair and a stern gaze. But still, he didn’t seem… unruly or rugged. Strong perhaps, but… not downright uninviting.

“Please forgive me for choosing this place for our first meeting,” he told you. “But I… hoped to meet you first, in private, rather than accompany you out. And while a living room might have been better suited, I… thought them to be cold and … distant,” he seemed unsure of the last word. “I understand you enjoy reading,” he gestured around the room. “Hence, I chose a place where I hoped you might feel… a little more at ease.”

Thoughts.

Being courteous.

He was already thinking about what might make you feel better.

“I understand that… a marriage of convenience isn’t… ideal-“

“Is it not?” You had to ask. Because for most nobility arranged marriages were preferable, actually, as they functioned as business deals. Less complicated than emotions. And as such, it could be run like a business.

More structured.

That’s why hoping to get married out of love, was unorthodox.

“I…” he uttered. “I can’t…” he stumbled. And cleared his throat. “If I may be as frank, my lady, I always thought to marry for love,” he admitted. “But fate hasn’t been as kind.”

A surprised expression rose to you face, as that wasn’t what you had expected. To hear such a personal admission so soon. And him to be quite so honest with his feelings.

But… his honesty would be something you could trust.

“I understand,” you admitted back. “I share your sentiment,” you continued as your gaze averted.

A flash of surprise passed through him.

“Quite frankly I… I intended to treat this like a business deal,” you continued.

“’Intended’?” He repeated.

Which made you pause for a moment.

“I… suppose so,” you admitted with a slight laugh. “But for now, I… can’t say that I’d mind getting to know you.”

“Oh?” There was a hint of amusement in his curious utterance.

“I… Well,” it came out as an exhale. “You have tried to cater to my preferences,” this time it was you who gestured around the room. “From the little you’ve been told. Which tells me that you’re … an attentive man. And a courteous man. Which reflects the… the um… feel of the situation,” you tried to best describe it. “And you’re being honest with me,” you could feel your heart beating. “If you were in this with… anything less than genuine intent of getting to know me, you wouldn’t have admitted preferring to marry for love.”

His chin lowered a little, but he was smiling. He seemed amused by the situation.

“My lady,” he uttered while gesturing towards the chairs in the room. “I think we’ll have a very pleasant discussion, if only you’d entertain it.”

“I don’t see why not,” this time there was an amused smile on your face.

Because… it had only been a few minutes into the meeting, but… you were already getting along.

Yes. It was very likely that you’d have a very pleasant discussion.

[crimsonhydrangeavn]

(please forgive any mistakes, English is not my native language) Hello, your project is cool! The characters you created are incredibly wonderful (I am ready to kneel for the sake of Marcelo and Camilla)! You did an excellent job! I was wondering, given that Garret is 32 years old, what if MC (18-20 years old) refused a closer relationship, since MC would be uncomfortable with the fact that they have a big age difference? (The question was asked without a negative connotation, I hope you feel comfortable answering it. If not, then please ignore the question. Please forgive me)

Aww! Thank you so much for your incredibly kind words! I also deeply appreciate the fact that despite English not being your native language, you put in the effort of reading my work and sending me a message. It really means a lot to me to know that you not only enjoy my characters, but and are willing to kneel before them! Haha As for your question, I really appreciate the respectful manner in which you approached a sensitive topic! I take no offense to it and I want to thank you for broaching the subject so thoughtfully. I just want to make a disclaimer before answering it. Given that this is a yandere visual novel, it goes without saying that there will be twisted, dark, and controversial themes throughout the game. All of my characters are inherently flawed and I believe flawed characters make fictional stories a lot more interesting.

I do not support or condone people in real life forcing themselves onto others or displaying any of the toxic behaviors mentioned in my game/ tumblr.

Now that that's out of the way, onto your question!

If the only reason you gave him was the age gap, he wouldn't take the rejection seriously. Silly MC, you have no idea how long he's waited for someone to catch his eye. Now that you were here, there was no way he was about to let you go over such a flimsy excuse. Especially considering the large age gap between his own parents.

Of course, initially he would act like he understood and insist being friends instead. So what if you needed a little more time to accept him? After all, what's a ten year age gap once you turn 30? No, he wouldn't accept your answer, however he would content himself with being by your side until you were ready to accept him and the age gap. It goes without saying that if anyone else caught your eye he would intervene and make sure they disappeared, without your knowledge of course. Garret can be a very patient and respectful man, however he will always get what he wants, one way or another.

[happygirl2oo2]

Every reference I could find to Fitz's love of monkeys in Marvel's Agents of Shield, organized by episode numbers

According to this article, Fitz's love for monkeys comes from Iain de Caestecker's love for monkeys. The actor joked in season one about wanting a monkey sidekick for Fitz and it made it into the show's story. Fitz even has monkey figurines on his desk in early seasons.

season 1 episode 2:

FITZ: “I would love to see a capuchin in the wild. Maybe even a yellow-tailed woolly monkey. You know, um, Peru has 32 different species of monkey.”

season 1 episode 3:

FITZ: “If we had a monkey, we could get in.” SIMMONS: “Ugh, Fitz!” FITZ: “If we had a small monkey, he could slip through the sensors and disable the fence's power source with his adorable little hands.”

and

FITZ: “Did you hear the deadly lasers part? Without a brave monkey—”

season 1 episode 8: 

FITZ: “Still, this is definitely the type of work a monkey could easily do.” WARD: “You're our little monkey.”

season 1 episode 16:

MAY: “What's this?" FITZ: "Um, say you need to tag a fleeing vehicle... or a wild monkey, if it was to get away from you.”

season 1 episode 22:

SIMMONS: “That means that every bit of energy inside us, every particle" *breathes deeply* "will go on to be a part of something else, maybe live as a dragonfish, a microbe, maybe burn in a supernova 10 billion years from now. And every part of us now was once a part of some other thing ... a moon, a storm cloud, a mammoth.” FITZ, softly: “A monkey.” SIMMONS, also softly, accepting: “A monkey.”

season 2 episode 14:

Daisy: "Okay. But why am I suddenly feeling like old yeller right now?" Coulson: "Kind of surprised you know the reference." Daisy: "I've had a lot of downtime lately. That and Fitz really wants a dog." Coulson: "Thought he wanted a monkey." Daisy: "Guess he readjusted his expectations."

season 2 episode 16:

*When Fitz is packing up his stuff to leave, his three-monkeys statue is the first thing he's seen grabbing*

season 3 episode 21:

*When Fitz is getting ready for the broadcast with Talbot, he's making monkey noises as his vocals warm-up*

season 4 episode 3:

FITZ (counting his breath): “One chimpanzee, two chimpanzee. One chimpanzee, two chimpanzee.”

season 5 episode 5:

*Fitz is shown drawing monkeys on his cell's wall as a way to mark the passing of time while being there, instead of the regular line-markings that are usually used for that*

season 5 episode 16 (as Bobo is a common monkey name):

Jemma: "I was hoping you could tell me more about our future." Deke: "I mean, you saw it... It sucked." Jemma: "No, I mean Fitz and me. Do you recall any evidence of major injury, any noticeable scarring, perhaps?" Deke: "I don't remember you guys at all. I didn't even know your real names. Everyone in S.H.I.E.L.D. changed them when they were getting hunted down. I just knew you as Nana and Bobo."

season 5 episode 21:

*when Simmons is packing up Fitz's things into the suitcase, his monkey statue from the earlier seasons can be seen among the things already in the suitcase*

season 6 episode 3:

SIMMONS: “Expecto Patronum! [a small hallucination of Fitz in a monkey suit appears on her straw] Hello, little monkey Fitz.”

season 6 episode 6:

*while in the memory of the night they first became friends, after Simmons tells Fitz she also remembers "how manic you were and thinking that genius is just a tick away from madness", the wall is seen suddenly covered in drawings of monkeys in the same way Fitz did to the wall in his cell in season 5 episode 5*

season 6 episode 8:

SIMMONS (about the events of s6ep3): "I saw you in a monkey outfit dancing." FITZ: "No, no, reverse on that bit, what do you mean you saw me in a monkey outfit dancing?"

season 7 episode 13:

*When Alya gets up from her bed in the pod to hug her mom, a few monkey dolls can be seen at the edge of her bed*

and

FITZ (about Alya): “This little monkey is punching me as hard as she can in the leg.”

[kate-the1975]

Missy Moo and the Vegas Crew - Matty Healy × Reader

CW: Some inappropriate language. Literally nothing else unless you count dad!matty and cuteness as a warning xx

WC: 2,051 words

A/N: This is my first time posting on here, and I'm not used to this at all, so please be kind, I'm giving it my best shot, hahaha xxx

Finally. Me time.

A solid hour, maybe even two hours, just to myself. To self indulge in a packet of Cadburys Oreo Bites and a glass.....or two, of mine and Matty's favourite bottle of Red Wine.

Being in a hotel room suite wasn't the same as being at home in our shared living room, but it'll do.

Normally, being in Vegas would mean partying, drinking way too much, and maybe renting out a larger than life limo for all of us to get wasted in going from bar to bar and casino to casino....but I guess you could say things are a bit different for us this time around.

I let out a sigh of relief as I plopped down onto the large cream coloured couch in mine and Matty's suite, casting the show I've been waiting for all year round onto the 65 Inch TV.

I couldn't help but kick my feet excitedly like a child when the theme tune of The Great British Bake Off started playing. A childish grin also spreading across my face as I took a lengthy sip of my glass of Cabernet Sauvignon.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing." Matty's tired voice spoke suddenly, making me jump out of my skin and nearly causing me to spill the wine all over myself and the perfectly cream coloured couch.

I felt like a deer caught in the head lights. I felt like a child being caught doing something that they really weren't supposed to be doing.

I was watching our favourite show....without him. In his eyes, that's the lowest of the lows.

"I- ummm- i-.......sorry." I gave him an apologetic smile while shoving 3 small Oreo Bites from the bag of sweets into my mouth.

"Yeah, right! You're not sorry! Why were you going to watch it without me!" He pouted, his muscles flexing as he crossed his arms over his naked torso.

My eyes, obviously, travelling over every inch of his perfectly sculpted body.

I gulped loudly, my mouth going dry from the effect he has on me. After 8 years together, he still has such an effect on me, which is slightly pathetic.

"I'm sorry baby! I haven't had a second to myself all day, and tomorrow you guys are playing the festival and that's another day gone by where I don't have a second to breathe. I was just being really selfish, I'm sorry." I explained, pausing the TV and getting up off the couch to embrace him.

As I shuffled over to him with my fluffy socked covered feet, I could see his eyes scan over my appearance.

To me, I was at my worst. Wearing his oversized navy Nike jumper and a pair of pyjama shorts underneath with my hair up in a clip, my skin breaking out like crazy even though I am 32 year old woman, but to him I was at my very best.

"You're actually to fucking cute, Y/N." He chuckled as he brought me into his embrace, his arms wrapped tightly around my waist and his face in the crook of my neck, while I rested my head on his shoulder, breathing in his natural scent and running my nails up and down his back lightly.

"And you're too handsome Healy." I giggled quietly, placing a gentle kiss on his temple.

We just stood there like this for a few minutes, taking in each others presence for what feels like the first time today.

"Can I tell you something, Gorgeous?" He whispered against my neck, placing a gentle kiss on my collarbone when he stopped speaking.

"Anything, my love. Anything you want, I'm all ears." I smiled, scratching the hairs at the nape of his neck. Letting out a a slightly high pitched breath as he began to suck slowly on my collarbone.

"You smell like baby powder."

Is he being for fucking real?

"Healy, go and shite!!" I laughed loudly, pushing him away from me as he also laughed hysterically.

"What! You do! It's not a bad thing, just thought you should know." He kept laughing, leaning forward with a hand on his stomach.

"Alright, alright! Whatever! Now, are you going to get yourself a glass of wine or what? Because if you don't get your arse in gear, you can go back into the bedroom and I'll watch Bake Off without you. I don't care." I teased, playing with the strings of his grey joggers as I held in a laugh, knowing how he'd react to such a statement.

"Fuck! Go sit down, I'll be two minutes max, baby. Don't start without me!"

He wasn't joking. He practically skidded across the marble tiled floor to reach the wine, nearly falling flat on his face.

He grabbed a packet of Doritos from the snack box quickly as well, and then there he was.

Sprawled out beside me with his legs over the arm of the sofa, glass of wine resting on his stomach, and his head in my lap facing the TV with eyes glimmering with excitement for the new season.

"Ah, look! Didn't know I was on this season of Bake Off." He commented as someone named Matty appeared on the screen. His facial expression showed that he was clearly proud of himself for such a joke as he smugly took a sip of his wine.

"Wow, that was a good one, babe." I laughed, even though it was terrible, but it made me laugh nonetheless.

The more the show went on the more he got into it.

He gets more and more into it every year, and I find it to be one of the sweetest things about him. He gets invested in everything I'm invested in on purpose.

"Jesus, fair fucks to Dan. I couldn't make a cake like that." He sat up straight, leaning forward and staring at the chocolate fudge cake that one of the bakers had made in complete awe.

"Yeah, he's a good one. I really like Abbi and Cristy, though. They're really strong bakers. Oh! And I love Allison Hammond being on it now."

We did our own commentary through the whole show. Both me and Matty nearly wetting ourselves laughing over someone making a lobster cake.

As the first episode came to an end, it was announced that Dan, definitely Matty's favourite for the moment, was Star Baker.

"Yeah! Fucking come on! I'll bet fifteen quid on it that he's this years winner." He rubbed his hands together enthusiastically, turning his body to face me.

"Matt, sweetheart, it's literally one episode in. He could be shite next week."

"Sssshhh, don't say that! Dan is such a lad, he has this season in the bag!" He shushed me, placing a finger over my mouth as he tutted in disapproval.

"Daddy, who's Dan?" A small voice yawned from the corner of the room where the door to our bedroom was. Confused as to what was going on in her sleepy state.

"Rosie? Sweetie, what are you doing up?" Matty cooed as he got up quickly to go over to our three year old daughter, scooping her up into his arms and carrying her over to the couch me and Matty were sitting on.

"Couldn't sleep. Missed Mummy and Daddy." She whined quietly, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes with her small fists.

"Aww, we missed you too, baby girl. Do you have your blankie?" I smiled sweetly with loving eyes at our daughter, rubbing her cheek that wasn't against her dad's shoulder with my index finger.

"No, Uncle Ross has it." She whimpered with sudden sadness at the realisation that the reason she couldn't sleep was because she didn't have her baby blanket tucked up beside her.

Ross probably still had it in his carry on bag after it fell out of her hand while she was asleep in my arms as we were getting off the plane early this afternoon. He picked it up in an instant knowing his mini best friend would be distraught without it.

"Uh oh! We'll have to do something about that, won't we angel?" Matty spoke gently to her as he matted down her messy brown curls with the palm of his hand.

"Mammy's on it! I'll ring Uncle Ross, and he'll have your blankie here in no time, baby." I placed a kiss on her cheek before heading into the bedroom to get my phone off of my nightstand.

He answered the phone in seconds, apologising for not giving it to me or Matty earlier, and promising he'd be there in minutes.

"All done, my love!! Your special delivery is on its way." I reassured her as I sat back down beside Rosie and Matty.

She didn't reply, and I could see the way her eyes fluttered that she was close to falling back asleep in her dad's arms.

Rosie was 100% identical to her dad. From the brown curls to her witty personality and she even had the same freckle/birthmark on her left cheek like Matty.

The amount of love I felt in my heart for my sweet girl was overwhelming, and her looking exactly like the love of my life made my heart burst at the sight of her even more.

"Is she asleep?" Matty whispered as his eyes focused to the right of him where I was, but keeping his head resting on top of Rosie's.

Before I could answer his question, Rosie answered it for me.

"No, no, Daddy. I need to see Uncle Ross first." She protested, but the sleepy drool that was escaping the side of her mouth and onto Matty's bare shoulder said otherwise.

"Is that -"

"Drool? Yeah, she's drooling." I finished Matty's sentence, clasping a hand over my mouth to stop myself from laughing at my daughter's sleepy state.

"It's okay. Only when it's my princess, though, isn't that right, RoRo?" He murmured against her forehead.

It took all the effort in the world and in her little body to nod her head yes, rubbing her head slightly aggressively against Matty's shoulder to try and cuddle into his embrace deeper.

She clearly began to become uncomfortable while trying to wait for Ross to return her blankie, and she was a fidgeting and crying mess.

Clearly, sleep deprived and feeling super uncomfortable because of it.

"Ssshhh, it's okay. Don't cry, baby. Uncle Ross will be here soon, I promise. I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere." Matty tried his best to lull her back into some kind of comfort, but there was no hope.

The only thing that stopped her from letting out a large sob was the very musical sounding knock on the door, which I'm assuming must be Ross.

I was quick to get to the door, not wasting a second longer that could be a second that my daughter spent with her blanket.

"Ross, thank god you're- oh....hi, what are you guys doing here?"

Ross stood right in front as George, Adam, and Charli stood behind him, all of them in their comfy attire and wearing sleepy smiles.

"Well, we thought we'd have a bit of a sleepover until Missy Moo gets back to sleep." Ross spoke innocently, a wide smile spreading across his face as he tried to get a good look into the room and spot Rosie.

"Oh, and Matty texted George saying you were watching the Great British Bake Off, and if you think I'm missing out on watching it, you are so wrong." Charli piped in.

I was quick to welcome them in and Rosie was more than happy to see her uncles and her aunt Charli walking into the room to spend time with her.

I didn't bother to explain me and Matty had already finished the episode. I just replayed it without arguing, finding it funny how a bunch of grown men could be so obsessed with a baking show.

I glanced over to my left to see Rosie now fast asleep, her face smushed up against Matty's shoulder that was covered by her blankie, and her right hand holding onto mattys left index and middle finger loosely.

Was this like any normal trip to Vegas that we were all used to?

No.

Did I get to have an hour of peace and quiet to just myself?

No.

But would I change any of this for a moment of silence and selfishness.

You bet your arse I could never do such a thing.

[doumadono]

Congratulations on reaching 3k followers! I hope you will reach an even higher number, you really deserve them for your talent and hard work! 💞💞

Before I make the request, I want to say that I really find it comforting that you have time for your hobbies and your medical career. I am in my last year of med school and I took intensive care in consideration. Sometimes I worry that I will have to completely abandon my love for video games and anime, but I found out there is still hope, even though my free time will definetely be more limited fjshshdhs.

I wish you infinite success on your medical path! ⚕️🧠

And for my request, I thought of:

- a Douma with a f!Reader

- sfw headcanons

- prompt no. 32. Sleeping in the same bed for the first time from 002 SFW.

Douma & Reader in the same bed for the first time - headcanons

A/N: I truly appreciate your kind words! Congratulations on being in your last year of med school and pursuing intensive care – that's an incredible accomplishment! Remember, while your free time may become more limited, it's heartening to know that there's always room to enjoy the things you love. Keep nurturing those interests – they can be a valuable source of respite throughout your medical journey. Wishing you all the best in your final year and beyond! 🌟 Once again, thank you so much for this lovely request, as well as for your warm, kind words ♥

MASTERLIST

One evening, you find yourself assisting Douma in preparing for an upcoming meeting with his followers. The tasks keep you busy, and as the night wears on, exhaustion creeps in

After noticing you're growing exhaustion from spending long hours with him, Douma suggests that you rest in his chamber. He assures that it's merely for your well-being, and you hesitantly accept his offer. "You seem exhausted, my dear. Perhaps you should rest for a while."

Douma's chamber is unexpectedly serene, adorned with soft, silk drapes that flutter gently in the breeze coming through opened door leading to the private part of the garden. You're surprised by the calming atmosphere, finding solace in the tranquil surroundings

As you settle into bed, Douma hums a soothing melody, his voice surprisingly melodic. The gentle vibrations of his humming lull the you into a peaceful slumber, chasing away your anxieties and tension

"What's that melody? It's beautiful," you ask

"It's an old tune," he begins, his voice holding a trace of nostalgia. "I don't quite recall where I heard it first, but it always brought me a sense of calm. I thought it might offer you some comfort tonight."

After you settled into bed, Douma's arm slips around your waist, drawing you into a protective embrace. The steady rise and fall of his chest against your back creates a soothing rhythm, lulling you into a peaceful sleep.

Douma's hold is surprisingly gentle yet firm, as if he's determined to shield you from any troubles that might intrude upon the night. His closeness brings a sense of security you've never experienced before

Throughout the night, whenever you stir or whimper in your sleep, Douma's grip tightens ever so slightly, his subconscious way of ensuring your comfort. His touch becomes a silent reassurance that you're not alone

You awaken in the middle of the night, your heart racing from a nightmare. Without a word, Douma's fingers brush against your cheek, his touch cool and soothing as he gently wipes away the remnants of your distress

When you wake up, you find yourself nestled against Douma's chest, his arm still protectively around you

After waking up, he lays with you in his arms. Suddenly he remarks teasingly, "You do realize that sleeping in my chamber grants you no special privileges, right?" Douma's fingers trace soothing patterns along your arm, the gentle touch acting like a balm to any lingering anxieties

"Oh really? I thought it came with a crown and a scepter," you reply, rolling your eyes

After that night, your interactions with Douma become less strained. You find comfort in his presence and gradually begins to open up to him, sharing stories and secrets in the quiet hours of the night